It's All Coming Back to Me Now
by texasgirl11
Summary: Jonathan and Jennifer reunite after twenty years apart. Do they still have feelings for one another? Or has time and the death of a dear friend changed them? AU. Complete. All reviews welcome!
1. Chapter 1

A cab was waiting when the boat arrived at the dock. He held open the door for her, ushering her inside the vehicle with his hand on the small of her back. He'd found many ways to touch her throughout the day. A light brush of his hand. A gentle tap on the shoulder. And finally, the soft embrace they shared when their difficult mission was done. It had been a long, emotional day. A long week for that matter. But somehow they found the strength to fulfill a touching, last wish...one that had her questioning the last two decades of her life.

The ride to the seaside cafe was short with very little conversation en route. Once inside, she excused herself for a few moments alone in the Ladies Room. Standing in front of the mirror, she noted how little the restaurant had changed since her last visit. The same chipped tile vanity. The same faded oil painting hanging on the wall. The same woven basket of hand towels beside the sink. As though not a day had passed. But upon close inspection of herself, the passage of time was clear. Her hair was longer now. Her face, more pale and thin. Days spent inside a lecture hall had brought little color to her skin. The young twenty-something newlywed that once smiled at her reflection in the very same mirror was now replaced with a fifty-one year old woman. A woman beginning to doubt every twist and turn her life had taken since.

She ran her fingers through her windblown hair and gave her lips a quick swipe of clear gloss. Jonathan sat waiting at a table overlooking the water with a bottle of wine breathing between two glasses. He immediately stood upon her return.

"This place hasn't changed a bit." He looked around.

"Bathrooms haven't been updated."

"Mediterranean rustic?" He pushed her chair in.

"Chipped tile and all."

"May I?" He reached for her glass, filling it halfway. "I took the liberty of ordering. I hope that's okay."

"Fine." She answered with a polite smile, her eyes pulled out to sea.

Jonathan followed her gaze and until the waiter arrived with their dinner several minutes later, neither said a word. And neither seemed to have much of an appetite. Jennifer picked at her salad while he did nothing more than push his food around his plate. Was it the pain and finality of their completed task that weighed down on them...or something else? There was definitely something there. Things. Words. So much that needed to be said. But who would dare to begin? Were his thoughts centered solely on Max? Or was he, like her, letting his mind wander into dangerous, long deserted places?

"Would you care for some dessert this evening?" The waiter returned.

"Interested?" He scanned her eyes.

"I don't think so. I'm really not very hungry."

"I think we'll pass. Just the check please, Chief."

_Chief. _She hadn't heard him address anyone that way in so long. It made her heart flutter a little, the way he addressed others. Never rude or condescending. Always confident. And always with a smile. It was one of the things that initially drew her to him.

"We'll need a cab as well. Could you call one for us?" He asked.

"Should be no more than two or three minutes." The waiter nodded.

"Oh, I thought we might walk back from here...if that's alright."

"Cancel the cab." He smiled and stuffed the credit card receipt into his wallet. "The lady has requested a walk."

"Well, when a beautiful lady wants to walk on a day like this, you don't say no." The waiter laughed.

They strolled in silence along the deserted beach back up the hotel. His mind was a gnarled mass of thoughts; one twisting cruelly into another. In twenty-four hours time he'd be back to his life in Los Angeles. She'd return to the opposite coast and into the arms of another man. His window of opportunity was disappearing as quickly as the sun on the Greek horizon.

"You know what I miss most?" He called out to her.

"His laugh?" She guessed.

"No, I'm not talking about Max." He stopped walking. "I'm talking about you."

She was just a few paces ahead of him. Her insides froze despite the last warm rays of sun on her neck. Sure, she could keep walking, completely ignoring his comment. But their time together had been filled with so many truthful moments. It left her no other option but to turn around and face him. She'd known the moment was coming. It had been there all day. Several days in fact. And the serious tone of his voice was something she'd never forgotten.

"The way you say my name." His weary eyes locked on hers with total sincerity. "God, I miss that."

She felt herself shiver. Not because the wind had suddenly picked up, but because she couldn't deny it any longer. Time spent alone with the man whose name she'd once shared had awakened feelings she could have sworn were dead.

"I was afraid to come back here." He sighed, turning his eyes back to the waves of the Aegean. "Max was right. We were our truest selves on this island, once upon a time."

"That was a long time ago." It was her turn to sigh. "God, we were so young. Still just kids."

The strong breeze silenced their conversation once more. For several moments, all she could hear was the sound of her own heart beating in her chest. One minute she was living quietly in upstate New York. Spending her days teaching. Spending her nights with her soon-to-be husband. And now, here she was. Standing on a beach in the shadow of her former husband, overcome with feelings she wasn't supposed to acknowledge. Suddenly the ring on her left hand felt very heavy and unusually out of place.

"You're not really going to marry him, are you?" His eyes found hers once more.

"I don't think we should-" She began her protest.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you love him. Really love him. Tell me he's your whole world." He cut her off. With his eyes firmly on hers, he caught a strand of her red hair, dancing in the wind, and tucked it safely behind her ear._I will not let this beach __swallow me up this time_...

The space between them disappeared and now their bodies were almost touching. Just that one simple gesture was enough to send her reeling into the past. The twenty year divide between them was rapidly vanishing and she felt strangely like Alice, ready to chase him down another rabbit hole.

"Jonathan..." The wind took her voice. She shook her head, afraid of what might come out of her mouth.

"That's it." His arms encircled her waist and he pulled her body close. His lips hovered over hers as he spoke. "When you say it just like that...I'm done. I always was."

_Two weeks earlier_

His hand brushed against her bare arm and instantly his fingertips came alive. He half expected her to pull away but she didn't. She was part angel, part mirage, with a halo of pink light coloring the air around her. He'd searched for her for so long, thankful now that they'd arrived at this place. This dark place where they seemed to drift into one another. After locking on her eyes with a soft smile, he continued to explore the contours of her body. Her elbow. Her neck. The tiny mole hiding behind her left ear. She didn't try to stop his advance, the lightness of his fingers felt warm. Familiar. Safe. No, it wasn't until the waves crept up to the edge of the bed, turning the silky sheets between them into a cold, soggy net that she began to retreat. She didn't say a word as the bed began to sink into the blue-black abyss but calmly motioned for him to follow, swimming in silent strokes toward a distant shore.

He followed her, barely able to keep his eyes focused above the waves. Gasping for breath as sheets of water broke like panes of glass over his head. The salt stung his eyes and he felt at any moment his tired arms and legs would simply disconnect, leaving him to drown as nothing but a stump of a man. The darkness was now fading overhead, replaced with kinder skies. He frantically scanned the water. One minute she was in sight, just a few strokes ahead. The next, she was gone. He gulped in the air, pulling it into his lungs with great, thirsty force. Determined not to let her slip away again, he fought the surging current.

And without warning, there they were. Side by side on the sand. Bright sunlight had drowned out the darkness completely and he had to squint to see her fully. Somehow he'd conquered the monster waves. Feeling somewhat smug at this victory, he reached out for her again, looking for the reward that only her lips could offer. With an impish grin, she pushed his hand away and ran down the beach; her white cotton skirt catching the wind like a sail. She was beautiful. Like a Cassatt painting; the light falling perfectly on her skin. He watched her for several minutes. When the trail of footprints between them started to wash away, he realized the threat was not over. His heart began to pound once more as the tide grew stronger. Seconds were becoming minutes and minutes were transforming into hours, days. Farther and farther away she ran. She was now just a tiny dot on the horizon; her auburn hair whipping around her face. _Go to her!_ He willed himself, but the sand gripped him. He tried to pull himself up, but the beach began to consume him. "Jennifer! Jennifer!" He called out to her, but the ocean swallowed up both his words and his body.

"I'm so sorry to wake you, but -" She gently nudged him arm.

The fuzzy, disconnected realm of sleep dissolved instantly and he was now fully awake; his heart beating furiously and a line of sweat on his lip. He sat up quickly, running a hand through his hair.

"Is he okay?" Jonathan asked in a whisper. "What time is it?" He strained, trying to read his watch. How long had he drifted away? Thirty minutes? An hour? Daylight still peered through the drawn draperies in the living room and he guessed it was somewhere near lunchtime.

The woman standing over him paused and studied his wild eyes. That brief hesitation was all he needed...silently screaming the answer he didn't want to hear.

The hours remaining in the day raced by in minutes. The Coroner's office. Death Certificates. Phone calls. A steady stream of friends, their kind eyes hoping to soften the blow. He wasn't truly aware of everything happening around him. But Emmett was there, overseeing every detail. And Glenda kept them all fed, despite protests that he wasn't the least bit hungry. He wanted to take a more commanding role, but exhaustion wove tightly around his brain. And really, there wasn't much for him to do. Max had seen to that personally. No loose ends. All arrangements made. It was as though the old man had left them a shopping list of sorts. Just check each box and move on. _It's how he wanted it_, he kept reminding himself. But somehow that knowledge didn't ease his heartache. He was gone. Really gone. As in, never coming back. He'd contemplated this day in his head thousands of times over the last few months, hoping that maybe it wouldn't come. A streak of luck had branded Max his whole life. Surely he would beat this. But each dismal day gave way to a dismal night and after a few weeks, Jonathan knew that letting go was best.

He looked around the home they'd shared together for so many years. Boxes of medical equipment sat by the stairs, waiting for Hospice to retrieve them. A couple of Max's poker buddies exchanged soft goodbyes at the front door. Glenda quietly loaded a tray with discarded cups and plates scattered around the living room. Emmett had exited a few minutes earlier with a promise to be back the next morning.

"I want you to take two of these and go to bed. That's not a request." Dr. Sechler, Max's oncologist, pressed a small, brown bottle into Jonathan's hand.

"Okay." He nodded, too tired to fight.

"You've been amazing, Jonathan. What you've been through these past few months is no less than human warfare. You've handled it with grace and dignity and you've honored Max exactly as he wanted."

Jonathan dropped his eyes from view, only able to muster a humble nod.

"I'll see you on Friday at the memorial. Please don't hesitate to call me if you need anything." The man gripped Jonathan's arm supportively.

"Thanks, Frank." He nodded again.

With the house quiet and all guests gone, he made his way upstairs to the bed he'd rarely touched. Midnight was just seconds away. Soon the house would be alive again, as their collective friends would gather to remember a very special man. He stared at the tiny white pills in his hand for a moment, thinking back for the first time on the strange dream. The one he was wrapped inside as Max left this world. The images of the woman only added to his pain and he doubted the pills would be enough to keep all ghosts at bay.

He pulled the sheets back and slipped in between their cool comfort. Within minutes he could feel the pills working, making his body feel heavy. He tried to formulate his own mental checklist in the few moments of lucidness that remained. There was really only one thing left for him to do. He needed to call her. He'd needed to for months. He'd wanted to for years. But at Max's request, coupled with his own fear, he'd held off. _Don't bother her. At least not until it's over. She'll understand, Mr. H. _

"Daddy?" He felt a small hand upon his shoulder.

"What are you doing up?" Jonathan turned over.

"I had a bad dream." The boy whispered.

"Me too, Buddy. Climb on in."

He moved over, creating a space for his son. They lay together, both in plaid boxers, their arms intertwined. He inhaled the boy's scent-delighting in his sweet breath and freshly washed hair. It was exactly what he needed to calm the chaos of the day.

"Do you want to talk about it? The dream I mean?"

"No." The boy replied, snuggling closer.

"Okay then. Let's go to sleep." Jonathan yawned and kissed the top of his head.

"Daddy?" He whispered once more.

"Hmm?"

"We'll be alright." He patted his father's hand reassuringly. "Uncle Max said we're Harts and Harts are strong."

"Is that what he said, huh?"

"Yep."

"Uncle Max was a wise man."

He was a wise man. About everything. Simple, straightforward wisdom-the no-nonsense variety. He'd been the rudder, guiding their boat for so long. Moving them quietly through both calm and choppy waters. Max had been his constant from the time he was just a boy. Looking down on the dark-haired form beside him, he thanked God for the presence of the little man in his life.

"He loved us very much, didn't he Daddy?" He added after a long silence.

"He sure did, Buddy. He sure did." His voice cracked as tears formed in his eyes.

He felt the boy's body relax and in mere seconds he was gone, lost in dreams. Jonathan's mind began to tumble as the medicine was now fully dissolved, tainting his blood with sleep-inducing power.

_We're Harts...and Harts are strong..._

How prophetic and timely were the words of his six year old son. He would certainly need strength when morning showed it's face. When a phone call would bring her voice to him for the first time in twenty years.


	2. Chapter 2

Jonathan opened his eyes, seeing Glenda's face above him. She covered her lips with her finger, motioning to the sleeping boy beside him. Carefully he slid out of bed, giving his housekeeper a knowing nod before disappearing into the bathroom. After a quick shower, he pulled on a robe and headed downstairs. Emmett was already waiting, sitting comfortably at the desk in the corner of the living room as if it were his own. Phone in hand, he waved to Jonathan, letting him know he would just be another minute or two.

In the kitchen he found Glenda doing that which she did best. Tending to everyone's needs via their stomach. Living in a house of men for the last several months, she'd adjusted well. There was a sort of magic about Glenda that he'd yet to figure out. She was always around when you needed her, but mysteriously disappeared at the exact moment you required privacy. Max hand-picked her as his replacement. Jonathan hated when he'd first described her as such. As if the old man could ever be replaced. But in the months they'd been together, she'd quickly moved from replacement to family. Well into her sixties, she moved with the vigor of a much younger woman. And what a whiz in the kitchen. When she wasn't whipping up something fabulous for them, she was sitting at Max's bedside, pouring over dozens of his signature recipes and jotting notes in the margins. _Don't forget to add a little extra cinnamon,_he'd say. Or, _Not too much tarragon on the roast, okay? _She'd just smile and nod, writing down every word.

"Coffee?" She asked.

"Make it a double." He confirmed, rubbing his forehead.

"Sleep hangover?"

"Must be."

"You haven't slept like that in weeks."

"I don't think I've slept like that in years."

He took the mug from her outstretched hand and sat in the rocker near the fireplace. They didn't speak for a while as Jonathan silently ran through the order of the day.

"What time did Emmett show?" He asked.

"About a half-hour ago. He gave the order to wake you."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, I don't think so. He said that he needs to discuss some business with you. It sounded important but he wasn't on fire. You know Mr. Nageler, always on a schedule." She closed the refrigerator. "Eggs and bacon? French toast? Or how 'bout pancakes?"

"I know a certain little man who'd vote for pancakes." He thought back to the tiny boy sleeping peacefully in his bed.

"Pancakes it is."

He left the kitchen and returned to the living room. Emmett still maintained his spot behind the desk, shuffling a handful of envelopes.

"Writing out your Christmas cards?" Jonathan asked, moving to the sofa. "It's a little early for that, don't you think?"

The man stood and crossed the room to join him. Sitting directly across from Jonathan, he placed the stack of envelopes on the coffee table. "Actually, these are for you. Well, not all of them."

"What are they?"

"Letters. From Max."

And just like that he was gone. Sucker-punched in the gut. No way was he ready for letters. Not yet.

"Listen, Emmett, I don't think I'm ready-"

"You don't have to read them right this minute. But he asked that I give them to you immediately after his passing. I'm just following orders." He exhaled loudly as he removed and cleaned his glasses.

"Is there something else?" Jonathan asked, sensing there was more than just letters to discuss.

"We need to talk about the final resting place."

"What do you mean?" He asked, puzzled.

"Max's last request."

"He changed his mind? About the burial?"

"No, no...Max was firm on cremation. It's just that he doesn't want his ashes kept here."

Jonathan had never really considered what would become of Max's remains after the memorial service.

"He didn't discuss it with you because he thought you might object." Emmett continued.

"Object? To what?"

"Max wants his ashes scattered."

"Okay. So he wants his ashes scattered. If that's what he wants, I'll take care of it."

"In _Greece_."

"Greece?" Jonathan repeated.

"Yes." The man nodded.

Now he was beyond confused. As far as Jonathan knew, Max hadn't touched a toe on Grecian soil in forever.

"I don't get it? Vegas or Atlantic City maybe. But Greece? What the hell's in Greece?"

"I asked him the same thing." He pulled a photograph from the pocket of his jacket and placed it on the table between them. "This was his answer."

Though he hadn't seen it in years, Jonathan recognized it immediately. The three of them together at a sidewalk cafe, laughing at the camera. Max had put on quite a show that day, dancing around the square with a group of locals. It made him smile, thinking how his old friend could work a crowd.

He studied all three faces. They were younger. Vibrant. And apparently very happy. He honed in on the blue striped silk blouse she wore, recalling how beautiful she looked in it. Her hair was shorter then. His, a little longer. Everyone said it and he knew it was true. They were a very striking couple.

"You know, we sailed there every summer for about five years." He ran his finger lightly across the image of his ex-wife. "Those were some damn good days."

"He said he wanted the two of you to scatter his remains in the place where he was the most happy."

_The two of you_? Quickly his eyes moved from the photo to the stack of envelopes beside it; his heart racing.

"So these other letters..." Jonathan looked up at Emmett as the pieces fell into place.

"Are for Jennifer." He confirmed.

The last of the afternoon sun shone on his face. He was thankful for the distraction of watching his son splash in the pool. Occasionally his cell phone would ring, but he'd yet to answer it. Emmett had called twice, leaving messages both times. Neither call brought news of any interest to him. He'd left a message for Jonathan's ex-wife, shooting on location in Spain. She eventually returned his call, sorry to hear of Max's passing. No, she wouldn't be able to return for his memorial. Big surprise.

"Watch me, Daddy!" The boy yelled, diving down below the surface of the water.

"Be careful now." Jonathan warned, his phone ringing yet again. A third call from Emmett.

"Hello." He answered.

"I hope you're resting."

"How could I? You call every ten minutes." Jonathan half-joked.

"Did you get my messages? About Marcella?"

"I got 'em." He said with a sigh.

"I'm really sorry, Jonathan. I know that-"

"Why? I'm not." Jonathan interrupted. "I never expected her to be part of this. She barely has time for her own child, let alone..." His stopped, determined to halt the rant he felt coming on. He fought hard not to condemn his ex-wife in front of their son. "Never mind. Just forgot it."

"I called to let you know that I have not been able to locate the number you need. I tried New York, DC. Even London."

"It's okay. I'll call her father tonight."

"You sure? You know, I don't mind making the calls for you. Go over all the information and-"

"No..." He sighed again, this time much heavier. "This is something I have to do myself."

"If you change your mind, let me know and I'll take care of it."

"Will do." Jonathan smiled at his son. "I'll call you later and let you know how it goes."

"Sounds good. And hey, get some rest. Friday's gonna be a long day."

"I'll do my best."

He watched his son for several more minutes, feeling pangs of hunger set in. It'd been hours since Glenda won them over with her fluffy pancakes. They'd been so stuffed they skipped lunch altogether. But now it was approaching the dinner hour, and Jonathan knew he needed a full stomach to make two very important phone calls.

"Time to bail out." He announced.

"Aw, Daddy. Just five more minutes."

"Nope. Not gonna happen. If my nose is correct, I think Glenda's got the fish on the grille. It's time to get cleaned up for dinner."

"I hate fish."

"You are a fish." He teased. "Now let's move, soldier." He wrapped a bright yellow towel around his small frame, giving him a salute and a playful swat.

Hand in hand they walked back to the house. The boy turned his nose up as the smell of seafood filled the air. Glenda manned the gas grill like a pro, narrating her steps as if on a cooking show. With a wink, Jonathan ushered the boy upstairs and into the shower.

Glenda was sipping a glass of white wine when they stepped back out to the patio. Again, she'd outdone herself and the table looked as though it'd been styled for a magazine. Grilled salmon with pineapple. Spinach-quinoa salad. Cherry Almond torte. And hot dogs? The boy smiled and thanked her with a high-five. It was their first dinner without a dozen or more bodies moving throughout the house. Everyone had been great in the weeks since Max had returned home from the hospital. So much food. The freezer was packed and would be for a while. There was always a crew to dine with, most providing the main course. But they quickly grew tired of the endless stream of casseroles and soups. Glenda was lost without something to keep her hands busy. She needed diversion, which the market and kitchen provided...and Jonathan was thankful for her flavorful, hot meals.

Still clearly exhausted, they didn't say much, leaving most of the conversation to be directed by the boy. Lego. Race cars. Sharks. He was never at a loss for a topic. Again Jonathan watched him, filled with pride at seeing bits of himself. The way he held his fork. His hair-the way it curled up slightly on the back of his neck. The shape of his face and body. But his eyes. His eyes belonged to his mother. Bright, beautiful and sea green. Almost clear at times and piercing him to his core. Everyday a reminder of the woman he took for better or worse eight years earlier. Mostly for worse.

"Have you had a chance to confirm with the caterers yet?" Jonathan asked, changing the subject in hopes of running Marcella out of his thoughts.

"They'll be here Friday morning to set everything up around ten. By the time we get back from the service, everything should be ready. I'm not sure exactly how many we'll have-"

"It'll be fine." He reassured her. "We could feed everyone from here to San Francisco on what's in the freezer alone."

"Oh, the woman from LAPD called. There will be an officer stationed down at the gate and two up here, plus the three directing traffic. My daughter and son-in-law will be here while they set everything up, to keep an eye on things."

"I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for us, Glen. I wouldn't have made it these last few weeks-months-without you. And Max-" He stopped, feeling his throat close.

"Well, I love taking care of my boys." She reached out and gave his hand a loving pat.

They helped clear and clean the dishes, despite Glenda's objections. Once KP duty was complete, the three of them retired to the living room, where young Master Hart selected a movie from their vast collection. It had become a ritual of sorts. Even Max had been wheeled-in in the early days of returning home. The two watched scores of flicks together-Max making sure the young boy was schooled in the classics. Brando. Bogey. Heston. John Wayne. And far be it from Jonathan to disapprove. He loved seeing his two favorite men together.

"What have you got for us tonight, Champ?" Jonathan asked as the boy held out a DVD case.

"It might be kinda violent for you, but Uncle Max said I _have_ to watch this."

"I think I can handle it." He grinned across the room at Glenda.

"It's called _Angles with Dirty Faces_."

"You mean _Angels_."

"Right. Angels."

"Jimmy Cagney. It's a classic alright. Violent yes, but still a classic. I think Uncle Max was right. This is definitely required viewing." He said with forced seriousness, knowing the movie was tame by today's standards. "Glen, are you in?"

"As much as I love movie night, shoot-'em-up gangster stories are not my cup of tea. Let me know when you put on something like _Sound of Music_." She grabbed the boy's big toe teasingly as she exited the room, her knitting bag swinging by her side.

Together on the sofa, they watched the flat screen above the fireplace. It didn't take long for the afternoon sun and second helping of cherry torte to go to work. Less than forty minutes into the movie, the boy was out. Jonathan didn't move, fearful that he might wake. Just like the rest of them, his sleep had been sporadic at best. He spooned his body against his son's and watched the black and white images for a while. But the drama on screen was nothing compared to the one that churned inside him. The one that upped his heartbeat. It was late on the east coast. Too late to call? Perhaps. But late or not, he was out of time. He glanced over at the stack of envelopes on the coffee table. Undisturbed, exactly as Emmett had left them earlier that day. He could hear Max's voice in his head, forcing him to man up and move.

Carefully he slipped over the back of the sofa. The boy stirred momentarily before turning over on his side, away from the television. Jonathan clicked the remote and the room fell silent. He fished his cell phone from his pocket as he walked quietly through the kitchen. Grabbing a longneck from the 'frig on the way out, he took a long pull as he headed back down to the pool. It was now after eleven back east, and he was positive that a certain elderly British chap inHilhaven, Maryland would answer his call with equal parts fear and disdain.

"Edwards residence." An unfamiliar voice answered his call.

"Walter?" Jonathan inquired.

"No sir, this is Lymon. Walter has driven Mr. Edwards into the city for a party this evening. Would you care to leave a message?"

"Actually, I need to leave a message for Mr. Edwards. It's very urgent that he call me as soon as he returns."

"Of course, sir. If you'll give me a minute..."

Jonathan could hear shuffling on the other end as the gentleman tried to locate paper and pen.

"I'm ready sir."

"My name is Jonathan Hart. I'm calling from Los Angeles."

He left both his cell number and the land line before ending the call. Lying quietly on the chaise, he listened to the sounds of another summer evening winding down. The weather was perfect. Such a sharp contrast to the rest of his world. He'd lost Max. They'd talked about. Prepared. Said their goodbyes. And none of it lessened the blow. He couldn't push it from his mind no matter how hard he tried. A few minutes here and there, with the little man to pull his thoughts to happy places. But the minutes were fleeting and he wondered if and when he'd crawl out from under the dark cloud.

He was lost in a memory filled with cigars and cards and horses when the cell phone buzzed in his hand. _DC area code_. With a deep breath, he answered the call from his former first father-in-law.

"Hello."

"Jonathan? It's Stephen."

"Stephen, it's so good to hear your voice." He swallowed hard, not ready for the wave of emotion pulsing through him. "Thanks for calling me back."

"Lymon said it was urgent. Is everything all right, my boy? Are you alright?"

_My boy_. After all these years. Hearing his voice was difficult. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed him. He narrated the course of events that had taken place since Max's diagnosis. Stephen listened without a single interruption.

"I wish you would have let me know. I would have flown out at once and-"

"He didn't want it that way, sir. He didn't want to bother or inconvenience anyone. He didn't even allow me to tell his closest friends until just recently. You know Max."

"I understand. And I'm so very sorry, Jonathan. I can't imagine how hard this has been on you."

"It hasn't been easy, but we were blessed to have some wonderful Hospice workers here. And a godsend by the name of Glenda. The end was very peaceful."

"How did Jennifer take it?" He asked matter-of-factly. A question that increased Jonathan's guilt ten-fold.

"Well, sir, I haven't told her yet. In fact, that's part of the reason I called. I don't know how to get in touch with her."

"I've got her number right here. Let me get it."

The line went silent for a moment and Jonathan sighed, trying to release some of the pressure.

"She's up in Duchess County, just south of the university." He said as though he expected Jonathan to know...that he simply needed reminding.

"The university?" Jonathan questioned.

"She's teaching at Vassar. English department. Surely you knew that though."

"No sir, the last I heard she was in the city writing for Harper's."

"Well, that was a while back. They moved up to Poughkeepsie a couple of years ago. Big, beautiful home about a mile from the Hudson."

_They_. _They_ moved. She is a _they_? Has she remarried? Does she have children? The thought made him uneasy, even though he himself had done the very same.

"Well, she can tell you all about it. Let me give you the number."

Stephen read off the digits and Jonathan etched them into the label of his beer bottle with a ballpoint pen. The conversation stalled for a moment and his mind whirled as he searched anxiously for something to say.

"Max was one of a kind." Stephen broke the silence.

"Truer words were never spoken." Jonathan relaxed a little.

"That old man loved you, you know. Like a son, he did." He added.

"I know, sir. I loved him too. Very much."

Goodbyes said, Stephen hung up. Sitting alone in his study, he considered the death of his old friend. Many hands of poker and bottles of Gin had passed between them at one time. Lively tales and laughter. He turned his eyes back to the phone, debating. Jonathan said he wouldn't call her until the morning. He glanced at his watch- a quarter past midnight. He knew his daughter, the night owl, was probably still awake, clicking away on her computer. He lifted the receiver to his ear and dialed.

"Pa, what's wrong?" She answered on the first ring, her voice sleepy.

"Nothing, Darling. I'm so sorry I woke you."

"What's the matter?" She asked again, unconvinced.

"I just got a call..." He began.

"A call? From who?"

"Jonathan."

The line went silent for several seconds. Jennifer looked over at the fair-haired man asleep beside her.

"Give me two minutes. I'll call you right back."

"Of course."

Glenda followed them upstairs, turning back layers of bedding as Jonathan placed his son softly into bed. He sat down beside him for a minute, taking in his every feature. _A sleeping child is one of the most beautiful things on earth_, he thought with a smile. It was a thought he confirmed nightly, looking in on his sleeping boy one last time. He deposited a light kiss on his forehead before tiptoeing back into the hallway and down to his own bedroom.

He showered. The second time that day. The warm water was soothing and he was in no rush to get out. He thought back on the short conversation with Stephen. Surprisingly, it had gone better than he expected. They'd always been close, seeing eye to eye on most everything. Twenty years without a word evidently hadn't made much difference. Stephen spoke to him as though not a day had passed. And even though he'd been clearly devastated by their divorce, to Jonathan's knowledge he never really took sides.

And now the only questioned that remained was: would his morning call to Jennifer be as well received?

He stepped from the shower and dried off. Completing his nightly ritual, he fell into bed. He eyed the brown bottle on the bedside table. _Not tonight_, he thought resolutely. _From here on out_, _I'm on my own._

The lamp beside him went dark and he turned over on his side. The house was unusually quiet. Or maybe he was just noticing the calm the now existed in his life for the first time. No more doctors. No more pain. No more cancer. It was over.

He was already dreaming when the house phone rang. Startled and half-asleep, he quickly he grabbed the receiver, afraid of waking the whole house.

"Hello?" He whispered sleepily.

"Jonathan?" Her voice was shaky but unmistakable. "It's me." She whispered back.


	3. Chapter 3

Breakfast was unusually quiet. She sipped her coffee. He nibbled a piece of burned toast. Between them, the Times lay sprawled out across the table. Her cab would be arriving any moment and she could tell by his silence and rigid posture that he still wasn't okay with it. They'd talked everything out the day before. Well, she'd talked. He'd listened, not offering much.

"I don't know why you won't just let me drive you to the airport?" He broached the subject yet again.

"I told you why. Because you won't be satisfied with dropping me off at the terminal. You'll want to wait there with me, and since I'm flying stand-by, it could be several hours and-"

"And none of that matters as long as I'm with you."

"It's an hour to White Plains and an hour back. You don't have that kind of time today. You're in back to back meetings. Some of which have already been rescheduled." She argued. "And you're leaving Sunday for the Denverconference."

"When you're president of the university, that's one of the small luxuries you're afforded. Cancelling at the last minute. Who's going to tell me no?" He tried to joke.

"Les, please don't start this again. I explained why I have to do this my way." She replied with some degree of force.

"Alright, alright. I won't beg." He backed off, sensing her argumentative tone.

"Thank you. Begging never suits university presidents."

Moving her chair closer to his, she smiled and straightened his tie. She wondered if there had been a secret motive to his selecting it. She'd given it to him on Valentine's Day earlier that year, a joke of sorts. A hot pink and red_power tie, _or so he'd called it. Nothing about it said power in the least. It was gaudy. Atrocious even. Like sappy, dime-store romance in long silk form. They'd had a good laugh about it and he'd only worn it one other time. The night she finally accepted his proposal.

He reached and placed his hand over hers, looking into her eyes with a childlike expression.

"Should I be worried? Tell me I don't have anything to worry about and I'll leave you alone." He whispered.

His tone was both serious and innocent. And it cut her like a knife.

"Why would you even think you'd need to ask such a question?"

"I don't know..." He looked away.

"I'll be back tomorrow night. It's one night away."

"You'll be with him."

"Yes, I'll be with him...at a _memorial_ service...with about _a hundred_ other people. Tonight it's a quiet dinner in my room. Sleep. Shower. Cab to the service. Cab to the airport and I'm back." It was clear she was becoming agitated.

"He's not just anyone. He's your ex-husband."

"Leslie Huston, if I didn't know better, I'd think you're jealous."

"Well of course I'm jealous."

"That's ridiculous." She rolled her eyes. "You have no reason to be. No reason whatsoever."

"It's just the phone rings one time and-."

"You know, you're right. You're absolutely right." She raised her voice, clearly agitated. "He's waited twenty years for this exact moment to re-enter my life and sweep me right off my feet."

Her sarcasm was one of the sharpest weapons in her arsenal. He didn't respond, other than by folding his arms tightly across his chest. His eyes locked on hers as if to say "_We'll see..."_

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to regain composure. "The only father he's ever known has died. That's the _only_ reason he contacted me. Not because he suddenly wants me back."

"How could he not want you back?" He pulled her onto his lap, ready to call a truce. "I'd want you back."

"You wouldn't have let me slip away in the first place." She rested her head against his chest.

He held her close, the woman that still eluded him in so many ways. They shared their lives, their careers, the same bed. So why did he worry that she could slip away at any moment? Throughout the course of their relationship, and even now, as she wore his ring, he'd never been quite able to shake that feeling.

The cab honked twice and he glanced at vintage Parisian clock on the wall. It was time to let her go. Reluctantly he followed her outside and loaded her small bag in the trunk. He opened the cab door then pulled her back into his arms once more.

"Why do I always feel that every time we say goodbye, it'll be our last?" His arms held tight to her waist.

"Because you have a flair for the dramatic." She fussed at his tie once more. "And the fashion sense to prove it."

"I graduated from Yale, you know. Top of my class."

"Yes, I know."

"Captain of the fencing _and_ crew teams." He reminder her. "Back-to-back championships in crew my junior and senior year."

"I remember."

"And I don't know if you're aware of it," His voice took on a secretive tone. "but I am currently the _youngest _university president in Seven Sister history."

"Impressive. And you're telling me all this because..."

"I'm kind of a big deal." He flashed a smoldering smile.

"I knew _that_ the moment you rescued me in the middle of a New York Citydownpour."

"Jennifer, Baby, I'm sorry." He increased his grip.

"It's okay. We're running on little sleep and high emotion. I'm sorry I raised my voice."

"Call me right when you land?"

"I'll leave word with Bonnie because you'll be behind closed doors, sharing your brilliant mind with your collegiate underlings."

"I like to refer to them as minions. My _minions_."

"Oh right. Your quest for world domination?"

"There's only one thing I'm interested in dominating." He gave her a playful pinch.

They stopped talking and stared into each other's eyes. She brushed his hair back off his forehead and smiled. _My athletic, intelligent, boy-next-door that people mistake for Robert Redford on a daily basis._ _My quiet, gentle man_.

"Just remember...he may have a ton of money and ooze charm from every pore, but there's one thing in this world I've got that Jonathan Hart doesn't." He ran his fingers through her soft auburn hair.

"Me?" She said modestly.

"A Nobel prize." He whispered with a mischievous grin.

Though he'd offer a car and a corporate apartment for her stay, she'd politely declined, opting instead for a historic hotel in the heart of Beverly Hills. It felt strange, staying in a hotel in the same city she once called home. It'd been years since she'd set foot in the Golden State. It hadn't changed much. More traffic. If that was even possible.

As she'd predicted, she didn't make the first flight out of White Plains. It'd taken three different aircraft to deliver her to LAX and she was flat exhausted and starving by the time she swiped the card key to her room. A call to one of her favorite Chinese restaurants around the corner produced a bag full of long-forgotten culinary treats. She sat watching an old movie, waiting for Leslie to return her call. They'd talked earlier, but only briefly. He was on his way to "drown his sorrows" over her departure, having dinner with a colleague. She was halfway through a box of Lo Mein when her cell chimed, signaling the delivery of a text message. She flipped it open and waited as a photo downloaded...grinning when the image of a chess board filled the small screen. Quickly she called him back.

"Knight to c3." He answered.

"Nice move. It took you long enough."

"Well, you with that Alekhine defense. I'm forced into extensive deliberation."

"How was dinner?"

"Without you? Boring."

"Ted and Rosalyn? Come on! They're the life of the party."

"I was stuck listening to two hours worth of stories about the inability to get their Welsh Corgi, Gypsy, impregnated. Did you know there were fertility drugs for dogs?"

"That bad, huh?"

"Only until he picked up the check. How's the City of Angels?"

"I wouldn't know. I'm holed up here in my lovely little suite with Chef Chan's best."

"Chef Chan?"

"One of my old haunts is still in business. Right around the corner from here. I had it delivered. It's just me, my noodles and Turner Classics."

"I miss you, Baby." He changed the subject and the tone of his voice. It was obvious he still felt bad about their exchange early that morning.

"I miss you too."

"You know it's raining here right now."

"It is?"

"Yes and I've been sitting here listening to it and thinking about what you said this morning. About the day we met."

"The day you took pity on a drowned rat?"

"You were the sexiest thing on two legs. Clumsy, but sexy."

"I guess I should thank that damn courier for not showing up."

"You were a woman on a mission, weren't you? Running, jumping over puddles with that huge stack of file folders in your hand in those spiky heels-"

"With my broken, worthless umbrella."

"Then that guy with the dreadlocks on the bike raced in front of you and made your lose your balance. And that's when the strap on your bag broke and everything fell out onto the sidewalk. Papers started flying everywhere-" His voice was animated and she knew he was smiling.

"And then this handsome man rushed to my aid." She spoke in a valiant tone.

"I can still see the way that purple wrap dress hugged your body. You were soaked to the bone. But the way the wet fabric was stuck to you...and the ends of your hair, all stuck against your neck-"

"It was green." She interrupted, at the exact moment her cell phone died. "Les? Are you still there? Hello?" _Damn_!

Seconds later the phone beside the bed rang and she quickly answered.

"You're fast."

"What was green?" He brought the conversation right back to where it had suddenly ended.

"Green? Oh! My dress. My dress was green."

"No ma'am. You are incorrect. The day we met, you were wearing a purple dress. _Deep _purple. Almost plum. You didn't wear the _green_ dress until our first date."

She paused and bit her lip, knowing that he was right.

"My god, I could've taken you right there on Broadway." He continued.

"Again with the dramatics..." She smiled.

"You know how long it took me to fall in love with you?" He asked.

"I have no idea."

"About two seconds."

"That's because you're very punctual." She teased.

"I do love you, Jennifer.

"I love you too."

They talked a few minutes more, right up until he yawned. At that point, she ordered him to bed and promised to do the same soon. She finished her dinner and slipped into a hot shower. It wasn't long before she was in bed with lights out. Lying in the darkness she allowed herself to think about Max for the first time. She hadn't really been able to following calls with her father and Jonathan. Not with the initial shock of the news and the tension with Leslie. At first she was upset that she hadn't been kept in the loop, as it were. She expressed her disappointment to Jonathan. He didn't fight back, but agreed with her. Whole-heartedly. In a wounded sort of tone. That's when she knew it was time to change her attitude. She apologized. Yes, she understood he was acting on Max's orders. Of course she wouldn't miss his memorial service.

That wounded tone.

In truth, that's where her mind had been. She imagined him there at Max's bedside. Holding his hand. Reliving old tales. Trying his best to remain upbeat and positive, because that's the kind of friend he was to Max. They meant everything to one another. She felt tears in her eyes. Were they for the old man...or the pain she knew Jonathan was feeling?

The phone beside the bed rang, startling her. She dabbed her eyes with the edge of the sheet and sat up.

"Listen, if you're calling to debate the color of the shoes I was wearing the day we met..."

There was a long pause on the other end before he cleared his voice and spoke.

"Well let's see. As I recall, you weren't wearing shoes that day. You were in tan socks that belonged to your father and you were carrying your riding boots. You'd just lost it all in the arena at Lake Placid and you were mad as hell. You marched right up to your old man, threw your boots in his face, spun around, and fired your trainer on the spot."

"Jonathan?" She was blown away with how quickly he recited the details of a day she'd forgotten. And shocked that he'd tracked her down.

"I don't think we spoke actual words that day. In fact I know we didn't. But that was the very first time I ever saw you. Does that count?"

"How did you know I was here?"

"What's that old saying? The more things change, the more they stay the same? You always did love vintage hotels. So, I took a chance. I hope I didn't wake you?"

"Are you telling me that of all the hotels in Los Angeles, you just happened to pick up the phone and dial the exact one where I'm staying? On your very first try?"

"Just lucky I guess. I wanted to make sure you made it in alright"

She waited for a moment, wondering if he would continue. But when the silence on the line reached an uncomfortable degree, she decided he was waiting on her.

"I'm fine. The question is, how are you doing? Really?" She asked in a sincere tone.

"Better than I thought. I've been able to sleep more, which has helped. It's actually somewhat of a relief knowing that this will all be over tomorrow. I know that probably sounds pretty callous-"

"No, it doesn't. I understand. And you're not the first person to ever feel that way." She thought back to her mother's battle with disease...those final, exhausting days.

"I'd really like to send a car for you in the morning. I know you said you'd just take a cab, but-"

"I appreciate the offer, really I do, it's just that I'm leaving for the airport right after the service. I've already cleared a cab to wait for me and-"

"Leaving?"

"I have to get back."

"But everyone is coming here after the service. People that you haven't seen in forever. Bill and Nyla Nelson. Pierce and Molly Williams. Henry Sorrels. Andrew Davis. Roger and Mary Beth Rosson."

As he rattled off a collection of names from her past, she felt her heart sink. People she hadn't seen or thought about in years. Friends that shared her life...way back when she was Mrs. Jonathan Hart. It would be good to see them again.

"Could you take a later flight? Or I could have my pilot fly you back. It just takes one phone call."

"I couldn't ask you to do that. Besides, my ticket's paid for and-"

"Please think about staying. There are so many people that would love to see you." He paused again. "And I'd really like a few minutes to catch up with you myself."

His words were soft and honest. So why were they making her feel so uncomfortable?

"Listen, I didn't mention it when we talked before but Emmett-you remember Emmett Nageler, don't you?"

"Of course. No one forgets Emmett."

"He's been my right hand, overseeing all of Max's affairs. His financial accounts, insurance, all the arrangements." Jonathan paused, unsure how to broach the subject of Max's final wish. "He wants to talk with both of us at some point tomorrow. Evidently Max left us some letters."

"Max left a letter? For me?"

"Not letter. Letters. Plural. I didn't know anything about them. I haven't read mine yet so..." He stopped, fearing his voice might crack.

She and Max communicated for a long time following the divorce. But several notes a year eventually dwindled to just a card at Christmas or maybe a birthday. Finally, over the last few years, no correspondence at all. She understood. Both she and Jonathan had moved on. She suspected Max had finally done the same.

"Are you still there?" He asked.

"Uh, yes. Sorry."

"I thought the three of us could sit down together after everyone clears out...you know, to discuss things."

She could tell by the tone of his voice that there was more to his story, but she knew he was tired so she didn't press. Aside from her promise to Leslie, there was no other reason she had to fly home right away. Would he understand her need to stay an additional night?

"I'll see about catching a later flight." She conceded.

"That would be great. It'll give us a chance to spend some time together. And I really can't wait for you to meet Joss."

"Joss?" She repeated the name, envisioning an exotic, long-legged beauty on her ex-husband's arm.

"My son."


	4. Chapter 4

It took her eyes a minute to adjust as she stepped into the funeral home's dark vestibule. Immediately she was transported back in time, as a number of familiar faces moved in and out of view. The people of her past. Shaking hands. Exchanging hugs. Sunglasses still in place, she inched her way to the guestbook. The framed photo displayed beside it made her smile. It was a great shot of him, taken at what she guessed was the Kentucky Derby. He was all smiles, cigar in hand. _Classic Max_.

She perused the list of mourners in attendance. All the names Jonathan had mentioned were present plus a few others she recognized. Poker buddies. Guys from the track. Chauffeurs and gardeners Max had befriended. There were probably close to three hundred people packed into the small auditorium. _Standing room only, Max. Everybody loved you._

She slipped her sunglasses and a program into the side pocket of her handbag and went in search of a seat. She squeezed onto the end of a pew in the back. Men in dark suits continued to bring in enormous sprays of fresh flowers as organ music played softly in the speakers overhead. A small table with a silver urn sat center stage, flanked by two large portraits of Max, resting on easels. Her eyes moved methodically across the back of every head seated near the front, but she didn't see him. The crowd was just too vast. She spun her engagement ring nervously around her finger, anxious for the service to begin. The room felt unusually warm. Or was it just her?

"Jennifer?" Someone whispered from behind.

"Emmett!" She turned around, smiling at his welcoming face.

"Oh, Jennifer..." He bent over the pew and hugged her warmly. "It's so good to see you."

"You too." She answered softly.

"What are you doing way back here?" He asked. "You're supposed to be up there." He pointed toward the front of the chapel.

"What? Oh no, I'm fine right here...really."

"Jonathan asked me to keep an eye out for you. He would like you to sit up front-in the row reserved for family."

"Well...it's just that I..." She struggled to find a meaningful argument for staying put.

"C'mon, I'll walk you down. The service will be starting any minute."

She knew she wouldn't win and it was not the time to make a scene. She took Emmett's outstretched arm, allowing him to escort her to the front. She smiled and nodded, feeling every eye upon her. Whispers rippled around her, moving through the chapel like a wave. She felt certain that money was actually changing hands-those who'd bet on whether or not she'd return.

The front pew was indeed empty. And Emmett was too fast, taking the outside seat and leaving her on the inside. Her palms were suddenly sweaty and she wondered how she'd make it through the service with him sitting just inches away.

The thought had just crossed her mind when a gentleman in a grey suit and yellow tie entered from a side door. Behind him, an attractive, older woman, holding the hand of a beautiful little boy, followed closely by her former husband. The three accepted supportive hugs from the grey-suited man before taking their seats. His face to the floor, he approached the pew. She held her breath, anticipating the moment their eyes would meet, but he avoided her gaze entirely. He took his place on the opposite end of the pew; the woman and his son filling the space between them.

"You must be Jennifer." The woman whispered, patting her hand affectionately. "I'm Glenda."

"It's nice to meet you." Jennifer smiled. "Jonathan's told me wonderful things about you."

"I know he's so happy that you're here." She whispered back.

Their exchange ended there; the organ now silenced. She leaned back slightly, discretely, catching Jonathan's profile out of the corner of her eye. He kept his face forward; his brow furrowed in concentration. Several times she thought she felt his eyes on her, but she dared not to look.

Max's memorial was moving. Many of his close friends took turns at the podium, sharing their memories of the man. Some of them funny. Some, deeply touching. It wasn't long until she found herself digging in her handbag for a tissue. That's when a tiny hand extended in her direction, offering a travel pack of Kleenex. She smiled in thanks, amazed at the boy's beauty. Tanned skin. Jonathan's face and hair. Eyelashes for days. Each time her attention shifted to the left, his bright green eyes were there, waiting. Once, he even gave her a funny little wink. _Oh my goodness_..._like father, like son._

The service concluded with an Irish prayer, which the entire assembly recited in unison. The man in the grey suit returned to the podium to address them one last time.

"It was Max's wish that today be a celebration of his life. A luncheon is being served in his honor and Jonathan would like to extend the invitation to everyone."

The organ music began playing again. The man gave a knowing nod to Jonathan, prompting him to stand. Glenda tapped Jennifer lightly on the shoulder, signaling her to follow suit. Emmett stood as well and the five of them exited the chapel, she and Jonathan in the lead with the others following behind. Again, she felt the eyes, dissecting her body language and facial expressions. He must have sensed her discomfort, placing his hand protectively on the small of her back as he guided her out into the vestibule.

They were immediately directed out to a covered driveway. Half a step ahead of him, they still hadn't spoken or made eye contact but his hand stayed firmly in place. It wasn't until they were out of earshot from the others that he stopped and they turned to face each other.

_"Need some help?" He asked, stepping into view._

_"There must be a hundred million lighters in the world, and I..." She continued, unsuccessfully, to try and light the cigarette that dangled from her lips. "picked a dud."_

_"It's not the lighter...it's the wind." He informed her, looking out at the harbor lights._

_"Thanks for the weather report." She answered sarcastically._

_He'd watched her from across the large lawn tent for most of the evening, totally captivated. Her face looked familiar though he couldn't quite place her. Not initially. Later he'd remember her as the girl creating the infamous outburst at the high jumper competition in Lake Placid. She wasn't more than twenty one or two, he guessed. But there was definitely something about her-and he wasn't the only one to notice. Scores of young men had tried to initiate conversation; each one striking out. He'd counted six in the time the band had started playing alone._

_She'd stood in the corner for much of night, yawning and sipping champagne in the company of an older gentleman. Her father, maybe? It seemed that even he'd had a difficult time bringing her into discussions with other guests. Clearly, she was bored to death. And when she casually strolled out of view and down to the dock, he couldn't help but follow. _

_"Friend of the bride or the groom?" He asked, tossing a rock into the water._

_"Neither." She answered flatly. "You?"_

_"Uh, friend of the bride's brother, actually. College roommates."_

_"Oh, I see." She responded, less than impressed. "I'm only here because my father is close with the groom's father. That, and he insists on dragging me to every wedding and clambake ever thrown on the east coast."_

_"Well, it's obvious why, isn't it?" He feigned a serious look. "Your old man's trying to marry you off. You know, dangle you in front of Thurston or Broderick or some other guy whose first name sounds like his last. Put you on someone else's payroll."_

_She laughed at his analysis. "Well, to hear my father tell it, it'll take an act of Congress to marry me off."_

_"Really? And why is that?" His smile continued to grow. She was confident. Candid. And sexy as hell. _

_"Because I'm stubborn. Outspoken. Reckless. He's got a whole list of adjectives, just ask him."_

_"Surely beautiful is up near the top of that list." He moved a little closer to her. "Of course, he needs to add childish too." He pulled the cigarette from her grasp and dropped it on the boat dock, crushing it with the heel of his shoe._

_"Hey! Why'd you do that?" She backed away from him._

_"Because ladies don't smoke." He stepped in closer again. "But they do dance." He took her hand to lead her back up to the reception, but she quickly jerked it away._

_"And what makes you think I'd dance with you?" Though she tried to sound indignant, her sliver of a smile said otherwise._

_"Look at it this way. If you dance with me for the rest of the night, the Stanfords and Benedicts might leave you alone. And, maybe your father will too."_

_"That may be true, but you haven't asked me to dance, Mr. ..?"_

_"I see we better add traditionalist to the list as well." He grinned. "My apologies. My name's Hart."_

_"Hart?" She looked him up and down. "Is that last name first or-"_

_"Jonathan Hart." This time he politely offered his arm. "May I have the next dance, Miss...?"_

_"Edwards."_

_"No first name?" He asked._

_"One thing at a time. Let's see how you do on the dance floor." She slipped her arm through his._

The memory was as fresh in his mind as if it had just happened the day before. They stood without speaking, looking into each other's eyes for the first time in twenty years.

"I didn't want themto take this moment." He glanced toward the chapel, referencing the enormous crowd still inside. "That's why I didn't look at you in there. I knew that if I did-"

"I understand." She acknowledged softly.

It was obvious that his strength reserves had been greatly depleted. He was thinner. Beginning to grey. But the eyes. Though they were tinged with dark circles, they were as blue as she remembered. The kind of blue that makes the sky jealous.

"I can't tell you how much it means to have you here." He began to tear up.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but right here." She felt her voice crack.

They stood frozen, reliving years of memories with just their eyes. She knew he could go at any moment and she reached out for him. They held each other, still not speaking. His body was comfortingly familiar. When she felt him start to shake, she gripped him even tighter; a sign that he was safe. He could let it all go. They stood together, oblivious to everything around them, and cried for the loss of their dear friend.

"Why is it so hard to let go?" He whispered in her ear.

"When you love someone that deeply..." The lump in her throat blocked the rest of her words.

It wasn't until he felt Emmett's hand on his shoulder that he pulled away from her.

"Uh Jonathan, I'm sorry to interrupt, but the officers are ready to roll when you are. We've got quite a motorcade."

"Right. Thanks." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes. "Listen, I want to apologize for last night. I understand if you can't stay. It wasn't fair of me to try and guilt you into-"

"I'm flying out tomorrow morning." Jennifer interrupted. "And you didn't guilt me."

"You're sure?" He asked.

"I _want_ to stay." She nodded reassuringly.

"Thank you." He took her hand and squeezed it warmly, as Glenda and Joss headed their way. Jonathan quickly took a deep breath and put on a brave, happy face.

"Hey Champ," He waved them over. "I want you to meet a very special friend of mine." He knelt down, eye level with the boy. "Joss, this is Jennifer. She flew all the way from New York to be here today. She and Uncle Max were great friends."

"We've met." It was Jennifer turn to offer a wink. "Though not officially."

"Nice to meet you." Joss stuck his hand out and shook Jennifer's forcefully.

"That's some grip you've got there." Jennifer shot Jonathan a look. She found the sadness in his eyes had been replaced with pride...and it made her heart feel full.

"A man is judged by how strong his handshake is." The boy replied matter-of-factly.

"Is that so?" She couldn't contain her grin, amazed at the enormous confidence contained in a such a small package. "Your last name wouldn't be Hart by any chance, would it?"

"Listen, Buddy, you and Aunt Glen are gonna ride with Mr. Nageler back to our house. Jennifer and I will be right behind you " Jonathan informed him. "If that's okay with you." He turned back to Jennifer's eyes; still as crisp and inviting as a pile of autumn leaves.

"That's fine." She said with a nod.

"C'mon, Sport. We're first in line...right behind the police motorcycle." Emmett scooped the young boy up in his arms.

It wasn't until she was buckled safely inside his car that she thought about their destination. She was going back-back to the home they'd shared as husband and wife. Jonathan had just purchased the estate when they met. She wasn't surprised that he'd held on to it through two ex-wives. At least, she guessed his marriage to Joss's mother had ended. There was no ring on his left hand and he'd yet to mention anything to make her think otherwise. She was suddenly very aware of her own ring, which continued to spin nervously around her finger.

Jonathan smiled and waved at the car in front of them as a small arm moved furiously in their direction. Again she found the prideful look in his eyes.

"Your son is absolutely beautiful." Jennifer confirmed, smiling and waving at him too.

"He is, isn't he?" Jonathan replied. "He's my good luck charm."

"He's a chip, alright." Jennifer grinned. "_A man is judged by his handshake._.." She imitated the Joss's voice.

"He didn't get that from me." Jonathan insisted.

"The world according to Max?" She guessed.

"He's been properly schooled, right down to how to make the perfect martini."

"That's one _well-rounded_ education."

"Aw, Jennifer..." He sighed. "I wish you could have seen the two of them together. They were perfect. Talk about your mutual admiration society. They adored one another. And Max...he's the only real grandparent Joss has ever known."

"Well, he might not be aware of it yet, but he was very blessed to have Max in his life." She paused, thinking back on their days together. "We all were."

They kept to safe topics. The service. The familiar faces in the crowd. It wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as she'd feared. Before she knew it, they were driving through the main gate of his estate, her former home-the large, wrought-iron monogram still regally in place.

_"All this is yours?" She looked around as they drove across the wooden bridge._

_"Lock, stock and barrel. It's got everything you'd need. Swimming pool, tennis court, guest house, the lake-"_

_"And a partridge in a pear tree?" She teased._

_"Something like that." He grinned, pulling to a stop in front of the main house. "Ready for the grand tour?"_

_"Just lead the way."_

_He jiggled a key inside the lock and opened the door. "Welcome to Casa de Hart. I've gotta warn you though, it's a full-on construction zone. We're still about a month out from the finish line. Just be careful."_

_She stepped cautiously inside, instantly drawn to the soaring ceilings, rough hewn beams and carved wood details on the staircase. The two-story foyer was magnificent, accented by a rustic, stacked stone wall. Despite the scaffolding and drop cloths, she could see his vision. Like everything else, the man even had great taste in decor._

_"Jonathan, it's incredible." She confirmed._

_"This isn't even the best part. C'mon."_

_With her hand firmly in his, he lead her upstairs, showing her a collection of bedrooms-and saving the master for last._

_"And this is where the magic will happen. What do you think?" He asked, side-stepping a collection of paint cans. _

_"It's huge!" She marveled at the enormous space._

_"I know." He flashed a naughty grin. "But I was talking about the bedroom." _

_"Very funny." _

_After exploring the entire second story, they returned downstairs. Jonathan continued to narrate the various changes that were taking place throughout the main floor. They stepped outside for some fresh air with a short walk down to the pool and out by the tennis courts. By the time they made it back to the house, Jennifer was hot, thirsty and out of breath. _

_"You know what I could go for right now?"_

_"What?" He asked._

_"Anything cold and wet."_

_"I've got just the thing. Wait right here. In fact, why don't you pull a couple of chairs up in front of the fireplace for us." He motioned to some empty paint buckets in the corner._

_Jennifer obliged, creating a makeshift seating area in the empty living room while Jonathan disappeared into the new remodeled kitchen. He was back in seconds, a bottle in each hand._

_"I insisted they hook up the refrigerator." He twisted the top off a cold Guinness and handed it to her with a smile. "Obviously the workers don't mind. It was fully stocked last time I was here. These are the last two."_

_"Your place is amazing, Jonathan, really amazing. I can see why you jumped on it."_

_"It's big, I know. Way too big for just me and Max. But one day soon I hope to fill it up with two things I've always wanted but have never really known."_

_"And what would those be?" She asked with a smile._

_"Happy children and unforgettable memories."_

_She wasn't prepared for the intensity in his eyes or his response. Both helped create a tight knot in her stomach. From those first twirls on the dance floor at a Long Island wedding just three months before, they'd rarely left each other's side. Camp Jonathan, her father had called their whirlwind summer. They'd been everywhere together. Crystal beaches. Mountain hideaways. And soon, they'd depart for a ten day sail through the Greek Isles before London and a brand new career pulled her back to reality. Her orderly, planned-out life was a suddenly a carnival of his creation. Was she ready to think about the next step?_

_He sat down on the bucket across from her. "You don't happen to know anyone who might help me out with that, do you?"_

_"The memories...or the children?" She heart was pounding and watched him closely ._

_"Both." He answered, his eyes firmly on hers._

She was a million miles away, unaware that the car had stopped until he nudged her hand with his.

"Jennifer, We're home." He smiled softly.


	5. Chapter 5

She stood at the piano and examined the collection of photos on it's ebony surface. A framed history of Jonathan's life since their days together. Almost every shot featured him alongside a young boy's smiling face. There was no doubt how they felt about each other. Joss saw his daddy as a hero. And Jonathan was a loving, attentive father. In six short years, Joss Hart had probably experienced more of the world than most do in a lifetime, or so the photos said. Deep sea fishing with Max in the Yucatan. In a pint-sized snow suit on the bunny slopes of Aspen. A prideful look standing with a group of professional golfers at Augusta. But seeing the expression on Jonathan's face in each picture gave her feelings of intense guilt. As she'd studied their interactions throughout the day, one thought seemed to hang in the forefront of her mind...

_You may be a whiz in the financial world, but this is the job you were born to do_.

She'd watched her ex-husband a lot, actually. Shaking hands. Accepting hugs. Finding his old smile as he quietly shared memories with his guests. Occasionally their eyes would meet but it was never strange or uncomfortable. He seemed genuinely happy that she was present. He didn't hover but allowed her to mingle at her own pace. There were a couple of times when he sought her out, needing assistance in retelling a story from their collective past. At one point the entire assembly was silent, hanging on every word as together they shared one of many hilarious Max tales. The laughter that erupted around them, she could tell, was just the medicine Jonathan needed. His expression grew brighter and he appeared to relax for the first time all day.

"Coffee?" Glenda interrupted her thoughts as she entered the living room.

"That'd be great." She quickly turned away from the piano.

"Where did Jonathan disappear to?" She asked, placing on the tray on table.

"I think he's still outside chatting with the officers."

"They certainly earned their pay today. Emmett tried to get a head count at one point. I think he gave up at two hundred forty-three."

"Max would be thrilled knowing that so many people we here." Jennifer sat down.

"And he'd be especially pleased," Glenda held out a china cup and saucer in her direction. "Knowing you're here. He spoke so fondly of you."

"He did?" Jennifer sounded surprised.

"He did indeed." The woman sat down beside her. "He talked about you quite a bit when we were alone. I used to go into his room and read to him. The sports section of the paper or a horse racing magazine. One day I took a box of old recipes in to him and that's when he told me all about _Mrs. H_."

"Ah yes..." Jennifer grinned. "The recipes. In the little metal box?"

"The very same." Glenda nodded. "_She ain't much with a whisk, but she don't need to be. She could rewrite the phone book and make it sound like Shakespeare_." She imitated Max's gravelly voice.

"He said that?"

"Yes he did. And..." The woman smiled widely. "he let me in on a little secret about you too."

"And what secret is that?" Jennifer asked, intrigued.

"He told me that _you_ are _the_ Iris Primrose." She whispered.

Jennifer smiled shyly, giving her coffee a quick stir. "Guilty as charged. I am, or at least I was, Iris Primrose. But that was a long time ago."

"That's incredible." Glenda clapped her hands with delight. "You know I've read all your books. The entire Double Twist series. They're fantastic."

"Well thank you very much."

"I love the one where Phillip is blinded in the pool by the psychotic brother of a former Twist Technologies employee. And the one where Phoebe is abducted by the germophobic, reclusive millionaire. Oh! The one where they were on the run from drug dealers and ended up in a Mexican jail."

"Not exactly Agatha Christie..." She laughed.

"What do you mean? They were great! But I'm confused. You must have been a baby when you wrote those, because that was years ago that I read them and well, you're still so young."

"I'm not as young as you might think." She gave her a wink.

"Are you working on anything else? Maybe another Phillip and Phoebe adventure?"

"Uh, no. I'm afraid my fiction days are over. Between teaching and volunteering with several non-profits I support, I just don't have the time any more. Phillip and Phoebe were there for me in a time when I really needed them. But with the internet shrinking the planet the way it has, I seriously doubt my jet-setting, crime fighting couple would be very popular with readers today. Unless I made them vampires."

"Good lord, don't do that." Glenda begged.

"Don't do what?" Jonathan asked as he entered the living room.

"Pursue the dark netherworld for her next novel." Glenda stood, giving Jennifer a wink.

"Netherworld?" He looked puzzled.

"Never mind." Jennifer shook her head.

Jonathan glanced around the room then turned to Glenda. "Where's the little man?"

"Still asleep in your bed. He's wiped out." She answered. "In fact, I should pop up and check on him."

As she passed, she offered Jonathan a supportive pat on the shoulder. She continued on upstairs, leaving them alone for the first time since they'd returned from the service.

"Care for a cup?" Jennifer asked him.

"I'd love one." He flopped down on the sofa across from her. "Better pour one for Emmett too. He'll be back in a minute. He's getting his briefcase from his car."

Jennifer's steady heartbeat was suddenly disrupted. In minutes she'd hold the letters from Max. Her face reflected apprehension which he noticed immediately.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"What? Oh, yes, I'm fine."

"Tired?"

"A little. Though I know I have absolutely no reason to complain." Jennifer added. "I'm know you're exhausted."

"It was really nice, don't you think?" He smiled at her. "I think everyone had a good time."

"It's exactly how Max would have wanted it to be." She nodded. "No tears. Good food. Lots of laughter."

"I thought we might have around a buck twenty-five here. I never dreamed we'd have almost double that."

"Everyone loved Max."

"And everyone was so happy to see you. I didn't think Nyla and Bill would let you out of their sight." He continued.

"It was good to see them again." Jennifer sighed. "It was good to see everyone. I just wish it would have been under different circumstances."

"But it's like you said. It's exactly what Max wanted. We got to reconnect with old friends, throw back a few, tell some stories."

"You know, I'd forgotten all about that time we were in Las Vegas. When Max got mixed up with that cross-dressing _senorita_ at the Blackjack table..." She laughed.

"That old man swore to the end that he knew _she_ was a _he_ the whole time, and that the joke was on everyone else."

"Those were some wonderful stories you told today."

"I really wanted to speak at the memorial. Emmett and I discussed it. I even spoke with the funeral director." He paused a moment. "But I knew I wouldn't be able to make it through."

"Well you certainly connected with everyone here." She nodded. "You're still a great storyteller."

"Only because I had you close by to fact-check." He gave her another warm smile.

There was no real tension or animosity that she could detect. He'd moved beyond civility and into down-right friendliness, as though everything between them had been forgiven and forgotten. Had twenty years helped to soften his heart? Or was Max's death the only catalyst in his current attitude toward her?

"Speaking of fact-checkers," She fought to stay focused and keep the conversation moving. "I spent a few minutes talking with David O'Dell. Gosh, you know I hadn't thought about David in years. He said he works for Walden-Page now."

"Yeah, he left Hart Industries about ten years ago. It was amicable. We're still good friends."

"And when did he and Robin get divorced?" She asked. "Talk about a shock."

"Let's see..." He sighed. "I guess about three years ago."

"His new wife is very..." Jennifer searched for the right word.

"Young?" Jonathan smirked. "Pregnant?"

"Yes. On both counts." Jennifer grinned. "You know, I almost blew it. I thought she was his daughter. Thank God I didn't hug her and go on about how quickly she'd grown up."

"Even if you had, you wouldn't be the first." He continued. "She's only a year older than Abby. I'm sure it happens a lot. "

"He looks pretty happy."

"He looks pretty ridiculous, you gotta admit. All that constant belly rubbing. He can't keep his hands off her."

"Well, obviously he's excited to be a father again."

"He's sixty-two years old!" Jonathan announced. "I thought I was pushing it at fifty. But the real twist is that Abby is expecting too. They're due around the same time."

"Wait...so if his new wife and Abby go into labor-"

"He could be a father and a grandfather on the same day."

"I wonder what Robin thinks about it?" Jennifer tucked her legs up under her. "God, I haven't heard from her in forever. She was always so fussy and proper, wasn't she? I bet she's fit to be tied over this."

"Well, I don't think Robin cares. She's the one who ended the marriage. Ran off with her tennis instructor."

"What? You're kidding?" Jennifer was fascinated by the goings-on in the lives of old friends. "Anyone I might know?"

"I don't think so." He shook his head firmly.

"I wonder if he's as young as David's new wife."

"Um," Jonathan shook his head. "Not exactly. From what I heard, _she_ and Robin are about the same age."

"Oh." Jennifer nodded. "One of those...?"

"Evidently they're happily married, living in Massachusetts and running a Vitamin Shoppe franchise."

"Wow." She shook her head again. "I would have never guessed. I always thought David and Robin were the perfect couple."

"Even perfect couples get divorced." He replied in a husky tone.

Emmett returned, closing the front door softly behind him. He entered the living room, taking a seat on the ottoman across from them.

"Is that coffee?" He asked.

"It is. Would you like a cup?" Jennifer offered.

"I'd take it in an IV at this point." He said, rifling through his briefcase. "Listen, I know it's been an extremely long day, we're all exhausted, so I'm going to get right to the point." He removed several envelopes and placed them on the table. "Jennifer, I can't thank you enough for staying on. I know I could've mailed these to you and we could have discussed all this over the phone or by email, but Max really wanted these to be hand-delivered." He pushed the stack over in front of her. "I gave Jonathan his a few days ago."

"Thank you." Jennifer nodded, her heart beating quickly.

"Have you discussed the final resting place with her yet?" He turned to Jonathan.

"No. I was waiting on you." He shook his head.

"Final resting place?" She asked, confused.

Jonathan stood and retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. There within its folds, he removed a photograph. He looked at it a moment before handing it to his ex-wife.

"Do you remember this?" He asked, locking on her eyes.

She looked at the picture for a minute. Of course she remembered the day...but for reasons very different than the moment caught on film.

_"What are we going to do with him?" She asked, referencing Max's performance in the square. _

_"The question you should be asking is, what are you going to do with me?" He swept her hair back, running a line of soft kisses down her neck. "'Cause I know exactly what I'd like to do. With you. For you. In you."_

_"Jonathan!" She tried to wriggle away. "People can see us. We're not invisible."_

_"There's not a soul on this whole stretch of beach." He continued to nuzzle her neck. _

_"You're going to get us arrested." She giggled._

_"On what charge? Kissing my wife?" His arms encircled her and he pulled the blue silk blouse free from the confines of her waistband._

_"Jonathan, stop." She tried to pull away again, but he held fast._

_"Have we made love on a beach yet?" He asked, slipping his hands underneath her blouse. _

_"Everywhere but." She smiled. "The sand factor, remember?"_

_"Oh yes, the sand factor." He nodded. "Well there's a bed about two hundred yards from here." He glanced in the direction of their villa._

_"Private and practical. See, I knew I married you for something other than your money." She teased._

_"You're beautiful, Jennifer. Do you know that?" He held her face in his hands._

_"Well you have to say that...I'm all you've got."_

_"Not for long." He focused on her eyes; the waves now licking their bare feet. "Let's go make a baby." He whispered._

She didn't have a lot to say on the ride back to her hotel. He knew her mind was busy-processing the conversation with Emmett. So he kept his eyes forward, letting the radio take care of the silence between them. But after ten excruciating minutes, he could take it no more.

"Well, you certainly have a fan in Glenda." He proclaimed. "She fell in love you-and not just because you're one of her favorite authors."

"You better take good care of her." Jennifer cautioned. "She's amazing."

"She's my saving grace. I don't know what Joss and I would do without her. She fell right in with us from the get-go. Moves around the house like it's her own, which is exactly how it should be."

"Well it's obvious that she really cares about you and Joss. Talk about falling in love. She's crazy about him."

"He's crazy about her too."

"You know, that boy of yours is something else." She smirked.

"What did he do now?" Jonathan inquired eagerly.

"Oh it's nothing bad. In fact, I think it's hilarious." She grinned. "He winked at me. During the service."

"What?" Jonathan laughed.

"Not just a casual wink either. He was straight up flirting with me."

"Well, that's because he's a Hart. We have exceptional taste."

"You've done a fine job with him, Jonathan." She continued. "He's healthy, happy, smart as a whip. And so mannerly. I know adults that don't conduct themselves as well."

"I'm sure it's far from fine, but I've done the best I know how." He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "I've certainly made my share of mistakes. The single parenting gig is tougher than I thought it would be."

"Do you have full custody?" She asked, breeching the subject of Joss's mom for the first time.

"We have joint custody, but that's just on paper. I'm really the primary caregiver. Marcella is on the go so much that we _agreed _to let Joss live here with me and she can see him during holidays, weekends when she's in town, and during the summer." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Basically, she gets to pick and choose when she want to be his mother."

Jennifer's heart sank, hearing the sadness in his voice. And it compounded the guilt she'd been feeling earlier. She didn't know how to respond without opening the floodgates of their failed marriage. A relationship that she felt solely responsible for destroying.

"I don't know what to say, Jonathan." She summoned the courage to be honest. "Other than she's missing out on the life of one special little man."

"Damn right." He gripped the steering wheel tightly.

Again the radio took over, buffering the quiet air between them. She stared out the window of his brand new Mercedes, taking in all the new growth in the area she once called home. Not another word was said until they pulled up in front of her hotel.

"I'm gonna make this real easy on you." He turned and gave her a hard look. "Joss, Glen and I are flying out. Monday morning probably."

"To Greece?" She asked, though she already knew the answer.

"I don't want to put this off. I'll charter a boat when we get there and make sure Max gets what he wanted."

"Right..." She nodded, her mind suddenly far away.

"These past few months have been...well, I don't have to tell you. You've lived it all before with your mother." He paused, running his hands back and forth across the steering wheel. "Joss turned six the day we brought Max home from the hospital. I forgot all about it." He sighed. "Thank God for Glenda. But that'll give you an indication of where my head has been. I didn't even remember my own child's birthday."

"You can't beat yourself up for that." She looked into his eyes. "You've been under tremendous stress for how long now?"

"He deserves some real one-on-one time. He's had to be second long enough. I had Emmett rent us a villa right near the beach. We'll stay a week or so. Let Joss play in the sand. Celebrate his birthday the right way, with a cake and candles and presents. Give Glen a chance to decompress-that poor woman's worked non-stop without complaint. It'll give me a chance to make real peace, away from all the reminders at home."

She didn't say a word but continued to let him speak. It was clear from his tone that he was ready to close this painful chapter of his life. The sooner, the better.

"I know it was Max's last wish that we...I mean, I don't want you to feel obligated in any way. I know you have a life...and someone waiting for you." He glanced down at her left hand.

"Leslie." She focused on her ring. "His name's Leslie Huston."

"I see." Jonathan studied the diamond for a minute. "So you kept your maiden name?"

"Uh, no. I mean, we're not married."

"You're not married?"

"Engaged." Her head was beginning to throb.

"Well..." He sighed again. "I guess congratulations are in order then."

"Thank you." She said, almost as a whisper.

"You know, I think Max held on to this idea, this hope that maybe one day...you and I..."

He stopped. She could feel his eyes drilling holes into her. The throbbing in her head was now compounded by the pressure in her chest and all she wanted was to get out of his car. She looked away; the ring spinning 'round and 'round her finger.

_Please don't say it..._


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm sitting here in a beautiful suite looking out over a city I truly love. This trip was unplanned-I just drove to the airport, bought a ticket, and here I am. No one knows I'm here. And I like it that way. Gives me a chance to think._

_I tried to count up how many times I've been to this town. Over a hundred at least. I have my regular hotel, my regular casinos, my favorite restaurants. But it occurred to me that there is so much of this town I've never seen. And that's my purpose in being here-to take in everything I can. You know I've never been to Hoover Dam. Can you believe it? In all my years I've never taken the time. And shows? I've been to a couple, back when there was people here worth seeing. Elvis. Deano. Frank. I saw all the bigs, but nothing in the last twenty years or so. So, here I am, ready to experience Vegas in ways I never have before._

_So why now, you may be asking yourself. Why is he writing to me now? I'll admit that when I woke up this morning, I had no intention of reaching out to you. In fact, I had no idea I'd be here in the heart of The Strip with so much to mull over. But that's how fast your life can change. I've been having some trouble health-wise. Losing a little weight. Looking a little sallow. A few other issues. Nothing major, so I thought. Just getting old._

_You know how you can say a word over and over and it starts to sound foreign? Like it has no meaning-like you just made it up in your head? I've been doing it all day. Saying it over and over, like maybe it won't be real or maybe I heard him wrong-the doctor I mean. But it does have meaning. It's not foreign. It's the cards I've been dealt and I have to play them the best I know how._

_I have cancer._

She stopped there and wiped her eyes. Her third time through and she'd yet to make it without tears. She could hear his voice in every line, making the task of reading that much more difficult. Several other envelopes sat unopened on the bedside table. She hadn't found the courage to make it past this first one.

"Baby, are you okay?" He stood in the doorway of their bedroom.

She responded with a nod, holding the letter out to him. He crossed the room and sat down beside her, draping his arm supportively around her shoulder. It took him a couple of minutes to make it through all four pages. Jennifer remained quiet, staring down the stack that remained.

"Wow." He folded the pages neatly, not sure what else to say.

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to read these other ones." Another tear fell and he hugged her close.

"I really had no idea just how close the two of you were."

"He was like a second father to me in many ways."

"It's obvious he loved you very much." He rested his chin on her head. "You know, I'm glad you flew out for the service. It was the right thing to do. It's always good to have closure."

She nodded again as she tucked the letter back in the safety of its envelope.

"I've decided to go." She announced.

"Go?" He asked.

"To Greece."

"I thought you said he was taking care of it?"

"Max never asked anything of me. Not in all our years together. He was happy knowing that I was happy. And now, he's made one little request and I-"

"A little request?" He stood up. "Flying half way around the world is not what I call small, Jennifer." He tried to remain composed.

"I don't see what the problem is. I don't have classes now. And you'll be inDenver all week anyway. It's a perfect time for me to slip away and do this one final thing."

"Slip away?" His laugh was filled with sarcasm. "With your ex-husband?"

"It's not like it would just be the two of us holed up in some hotel room, Les. His son and housekeeper are going. They haven't had a day of downtime since Max-"

"Well of course, in that case..." He rolled his eyes.

"Why are you acting like this? A man I was close to has asked that I see him to his final resting place. Is that so hard for you to-"

"I'm not going to let you go off with Jonathan Hart to scatter the ashes of someone you haven't seen or talked to in, how many years was it? Five? Six? Ten?"

"You're not going to _let_ me?" She threw Max's letter down on the bed. "And what makes you think you have any say in the matter?

"Well I'd like to say that it's because I'm your husband, but I'm-"

He stopped right there. The look in her eyes told him...he'd gone too far.

She finished up some spring semester filing in a matter of minutes, leaving her with nothing else to do. Her inbox sat empty. Her desk, now pristine and ready for the fall term. She stared at the four walls of her university office, ready for the knots inside her to go away. It hadn't gotten as ugly as it could have. Of course, she didn't give it a chance to escalate-she was in the car driving away at the first sign of trouble. Well, maybe not the first sign. Their phone conversation in LA following her decision to stay initiated the real blow. She'd ignored his disapproval, hoping they'd smooth everything out when she got home. But deep down, she knew it would come down to this.

She studied the framed photo beside the computer screen for a while. Her father took dozens of pictures that Christmas with the new camera Santa brought him. He'd snapped this one of them out in the snow, having what appeared to be a picture perfect holiday.

_Oh Les...why are you making this so hard..._

Her fingers brushed against his image as she reached for the phone. Slowly she dialed, needing to hear his voice...and perhaps clear her conscience.

"Hello?" He answered sleepily.

"Oh, I woke you. I'm sorry."

"Oh it's alright, my dear. I must've dozed off here in my chair."

"How are you, Pa?"

"Fine, fine. I was wondering when you'd call."

"I haven't really had an opportunity until now."

"I understand."

There was a long pause. He could tell she was tired.

"How was the service?" He asked.

"Oh Pa, it was very nice. Max would have love it. There were so many people. People I haven't seen or thought about in ages."

"It's unfortunate that it takes a death to get the old gang together, isn't it?"

"It's true." She agreed. "Nyla and Bill send you their love. And Tobias Renner said to tell you hello. Said he'll be in DC in a couple of months and wants to have dinner."

"Good old Tobias. Haven't heard from him in years."

"I gave him your email address, so watch for him."

"I will."

She continued to give a play-by-play of her time in LA. Stephen listened, jumping in now and again with a memory of a forgotten time or remembering a forgotten name. She told him about the letters, and gave him a brief summary of the only one she'd read. She made no mention of the scene with Les.

"How did Jonathan hold up?" He asked.

"He did really well. He's been through a lot." She doodled on the edge of her desk calendar. "And it shows."

"Roughed up a bit?"

"Roughed up a lot." She could still see his wounded eyes. "He didn't want to let Max go."

"They meant everything to each other. Max was the only father he ever had."

"They were the best of the best."

Another moment of silence fell. Stephen waited, sensing more than just fatigue in his daughter's voice.

"Darling, is there something else?"

"Pa, do you remember that summer that you and mom were fighting...back when I was about eight?"

"You mean when I flew to London to see Diana?"

"Yes." She confirmed softly.

"What about it?" He asked suspiciously.

"Why did you go? I mean, why after all that time did you feel you needed to go see her?"

He was completely unprepared for Jennifer's questions. Ones that forced him back to a difficult time in his marriage.

"You know, your mother asked me that question repeatedly and I'm going to give you the same answer I gave her." He stopped, remembering the pain on Suzanne's face. "I don't know why I went. I just knew that deep down, it was something I needed to do." He paused again. "It just felt right."

"But you hadn't seen Diana in years. You were married. A father. Living in a different country." Jennifer probed. "Yet you went. Despite how mom felt, you went anyway."

"Going to see Diana Rawlins had nothing to do with the love I felt for your mother. Or the love I felt for you. "She was in trouble and I wanted to help her."

"But why? You didn't owe her anything."

"I owed her _everything_." His tone changed and it took Jennifer by surprise. The last thing she wanted was to make her father upset with her too.

"And did you explain that to mom?"

"Well of course I tried, but your mother..." He stopped again. "I loved Diana at one time. But there were too many...well, I'm not going to get into all that. The bottom line is two fold, and I hope that somehow you can understand it. I met your mother and fell deeply in love with her. A love that I still feel today, just as deep. But sometimes a person has to do what they have to do...even if it means hurting someone in the process."

"If you could take it all back, would you?" Jennifer asked after another pregnant pause.

"I wouldn't change a thing." He replied confidently. "I did what I had to do. I suffered the consequences as a result, but only for a while. There was nothing your mother and I couldn't work through. We kissed and made up and moved on."

She thought back to the expression on Leslie's face, staring at her in the rearview mirror as she pulled out of the driveway. He was hurting...and she hated that she was the cause of his pain.

"Max made a final request. I didn't know anything about it until after the service, when we met with his attorney."

"What type of request?"

"He asked that Jonathan and I scatter his ashes." She let out a big sigh. "In Mediterranean waters."

"Is that so?" Suddenly Stephen could see the bigger picture...and the reasoning behind his daughter's unexpected line of questioning. "And I sense this is a problem?"

"Les and I had a big fight about it earlier."

"I see." Stephen stood and paced around his study. "What did he have to say about it?"

"He doesn't understand why. He thinks flying out for the memorial was enough."

"And was it? Enough?"

"Max never asked one thing of me, Pa. Not one thing."

"Is it possible that Les fly out with you? Then you'd be together and maybe he'd-"

"Jonathan's flying out first thing Monday. He doesn't want this hanging over him another day and I don't blame him. Les is leaving for Denver Monday, so I'd have to go by myself."

"And the thought of you alone, in another country with your ex-husband..."

"He said he wouldn't let me go."

"Did he?" Stephen looked at a photograph of his only child, sitting quietly on the fireplace mantle. "Well that takes care of that then, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?" She didn't understand his comment.

"When a man tells Jennifer Edwards what she can and can't do..."

"Pa, it's a little more serious than that." She insisted, not willing to let him make light.

"Oh, I'm one hundred percent serious." His tone was firm. "You've never let anyone or anything get in the way of what you wanted." He locked on the determined eyes of the young woman in the photo. "And I believe you have the divorce decree to prove it."

The knots in her stomach ached. Her father had a way of telling the truth and making it feel like they were in a boxing ring. She had no reply, other than the formation of tears in her eyes.

"I don't know if he told you but he has a son." She whispered. "A beautiful little boy named Joss."

"No, he didn't mention it. Of course, we only spoke for a few minutes, and that was solely about Max."

"He's a wonderful father. They're just alike, he and Joss." She smiled, thinking back on the boy's manly handshake.

"Jennifer, Darling, I'm your father and I love you." He sighed.

"I love you too." She leaned back in her desk chair.

"It really comes down to one thing. Motivation."

"I don't know what you mean."

"When I flew to London, it was to do a job. Complete a task. Nothing more. I was there for Diana in a time when she needed me. Not romantically, though your mother feared otherwise. But romance was never part of it. I was simply helping a human in need."

"I know." She said.

"So you have to ask yourself, do you want to go because you feel it's the right thing to do? For Max and his final request? Or are you determined to go because Leslie doesn't want you to? Just to stubbornly prove a point?"

Again she had no words. Her heart beat furiously inside her and that same west coast headache found her once more.

"And then there's the question that you're afraid to ask." He said knowingly. "And perhaps even more afraid to answer."

_The doctor gave me a lot of stuff to read. Treatment options. Pain management. I left it all in the car at the airport. But really, I don't need a bunch of pamphlets and articles to tell me what I already know._

_I remember when my buddy Tom Barnett was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I don't think you ever knew Tom. Great guy. The best fisherman I ever knew. Anyway, his wife let everyone know about the diagnosis early on. I went to see him as often as I could. He looked awful. There at the end, he wouldn't let anyone see him, other than Effie and their girls. He wouldn't even let his grandchildren in. Said he was afraid he'd scare them. Effie said he'd dropped down under one hundred and fifty pounds. I just can't imagine it. Not for a guy that topped six feet. Cancer grips every part of you. Inside and out._

_We put Tom in the ground four months after he got the news. Four months. I can't get that number out of my head. I put fifty bucks on number four at the roulette table this afternoon, just to see what would happen. I lost. Nineteen hit instead. I'm hoping that maybe that's how many months are left for me. Surely it's not days._

_I haven't told Mr. H. yet. To be honest, I don't know how. How do you tell a man that's like your son that it's almost time to go? He means everything to me. I know he tells our story all the time, of how we met and how I sort of raised him. But you want to know the truth? That kid saved me. I had nothing when we found each other. Hell, I was practically living on the street myself, after Ruthie died. I was a train wreck. And the bottle didn't help. But he gave me a sense of purpose-a responsibility. I don't know where I'd be without him. I know what his initial reaction will be. He'll want to fly me all over the world, looking for some miracle cure. He'll want the best doctors. The most cutting edge treatments. The newest and most powerful medications. But I don't want all that. It's too much energy and expense. Especially when the writings pretty clear._

_I've had good life. A damn good life. Better than I ever thought. I'm not afraid to die, just as I'm sure my friend Tom wasn't afraid. It's the look on the faces of those I'm leaving behind that scares me. I know Mr. H. better than anyone. He'll want to fight. But I know this is a battle I can't win. I can't win this. I know that. As long as I have his hand in mine at the end, I know I'll be okay._

She wiped her eyes again and looked down at the faded photograph. He insisted she keep it and it had found its way into her hand several times since her return home. It was a happy day, that afternoon in the square. Their smiles confirmed it. _How quickly things can change..._

The photo was dropped back into the safety of her purse. The clock on the wall of her office ticked off another minute and she turned her eyes toward the computer screen. A few clicks with her mouse and it was done. One round trip ticket from JFK to Athens, with the last connecting flight to Rhodes.


	7. Chapter 7

They were there waiting, three smiling faces, when she made it off the plane. The travel gods had been with her and she was able to make an earlier connection, arriving just before sunset. The flight was long and exhausting, as evidenced by her tired eyes. Jonathan took care of her bags but didn't say much. His son never really gave him the chance. The young boy ran to Jennifer the moment she stepped in view, staying right on her hip and talking ninety-to-nothing as they walked through Diagoras airport.

She'd left a message on Jonathan's cell phone earlier, explaining the good fortune of her new arrival time. And she was surprised that it had been Glenda and not Jonathan to call her back. They chatted for several minutes, Jennifer sitting alone in the terminal in Athens. Glenda's voice was cheerful and welcoming and for the first time since she'd strapped herself into the seventy-forty-seven in New York, she felt she'd made the right choice in coming.

In the parking lot, there was no discussion as to where she would sit. Joss pulled her right into the back seat of their rental car, giving a detailed description of everything Rhodes had to offer as they moved along the busy streets. She couldn't help but grin. His enthusiasm was contagious. But his enthusiasm was quickly snuffed when he learned that they were en route to her hotel and she would not be staying with them out at the villa.

"But it's my birthday tomorrow. Not my real birthday. My pretend birthday. We're gonna swim at the beach, build a giant sandcastle, have a piñata and Daddy is cooking shibakobs and everything." He tried to plead his case, talking a mile a minute.

"I think you mean shish-kabobs, Sport." Jonathan eyed them from the rearview mirror.

"I wouldn't miss your birthday for the world. I'll be there, I promise. In fact," She gave him a sweet smile. "I'm pretty sure there's a present or two in my bag for a certain birthday boy."

"Two presents?" He asked, wide-eyed.

"Or was it three?" She caught Jonathan's eye again and found his smile to be just as wide as her own.

"You know, Jennifer, the villa sleeps twelve." Glenda tried to offer Joss an assist. "You certainly could stay with us. You'd have an entire floor all to yourself. It'll save you having to bother with cabs or from Jonathan having to run into town."

"Oh, I don't know..." She looked to the rearview mirror again, but this time Jonathan eyes stayed firmly focused on the road ahead. "I wouldn't want to inconvenience you. And this is your family time and-"

"Inconvenience who? There's onsite help. Cooking and cleaning." She announced.

"Her name is Marta. She's a real nice lady. Her pancakes aren't very good though." Joss made a face.

"We don't have to do a thing except relax and let someone wait on us." She added.

"And make my cake." Joss added firmly.

"_And_ make the birthday boy his cake." Glenda confirmed.

"Glen said I could do the sprinkles and the candles. If you stay, you can help me. We can do it together." He looked up at her with an expression she knew well. The same one his father used for years-the one that made it hard to say no.

"What would I tell the nice people at the hotel?" She asked him, serious. "They've gone to a lot of trouble to get a room ready for me."

"Just get my dad to take care of it. That's what he does. He's really good at it." He stated matter-of-factly. "He's really good at everything."

"Joss-" Jonathan cut him off. "Jennifer's had a long trip. I'm sure she's tired. Let's give her a break, okay?"

"Okay." He muttered softly.

"If she wants to stay at the hotel, then we respect that decision. Right?"

"Yes sir." He rested his chin on his hand and stared sadly out the window.

The car was suddenly quiet. She glanced up at the rearview mirror a third time, trying to get a read on him. She found his eyes waiting. There was a softness about them-one that made her heart beat faster. Staying at his villa would only throw fuel on the already out of control fire burning back home. Les would never stand for it.

_"It really comes down to one thing. Motivation."_

"We'd love to have you stay with us. Really." He held her gaze.

His husky tone mixed with the sound of her father's voice in her head, making it difficult to think. She needed to make a decision-fast. A decision she'd be willing to live with, regardless of the consequences.

"You know, I was in such a hurry to get to the airport that I forget to bring my Roxy." Jennifer announced with disappointment.

"Who's Roxy." Joss quickly perked up.

"The stuffed animal I sleep with every night. She's a little brown puppy." She gave Jonathan a knowing look. "I sure hope the hotel has a stuffed animal I can borrow. Otherwise, I'll never be able to sleep on this island."

"I have a stuffed animal!" Joss declared loudly. "He's a shark named Benny. Uncle Max gave him to me when I was a baby. But you can borrow him."

"You would do that for me?" She looked down into his piercing green eyes.

"Only ifyou promise to stay with us." He spelled out his terms.

"I don't know." Jennifer debated. "You drive a pretty hard bargain."

"It's called a win-win. Right Daddy?" The boy leaned over the front seat and gave his father a pat on the shoulder.

She settled into her room, a gorgeous en suite on the lower level. The three story villa was simply amazing...all five thousand square feet. It had everything-indoor sauna, steam room, full service gym, and theater. But nothing inside could touch the views outside. They were incredible. And after studying them for a few minutes, she remembered exactly why she loved the Mediterranean coast. The stretch of beach before her was deserted. She could barely make out the dwelling closest to them. It was quiet and secluded...and she knew why he'd picked this particular locale. It wasn't the same area they'd stayed years before, but she liked the privacy it afforded. A hidden slice of solitude.

They dined al fresco on a gorgeous veranda surrounded by lush gardens. A late meal of traditional Greek fare, with non-stop entertainment provided by Joss. He was quite a storyteller and there was never a lull in the conversation. Jennifer was taken by the vast knowledge contained inside the six year old's head and the look on Jonathan's face as he watched his son hold court. He'd remained somewhat quiet since they arrived at the villa, almost preoccupied. Jennifer wondered at one point that perhaps her decision to stay was the wrong one. But when the dishes were cleared and he offered her favorite after dinner drink, she knew everything was alright.

"Feel like taking a little walk?" He asked, placing a glass in front of her.

"Down to the beach?" Joss asked, excitedly.

"Not you, Champ. Just Jennifer. We need to discuss some grown-up business. We won't be gone long."

"And we've got all day tomorrow on the beach...for your birthday." Jennifer reassured him.

"And it's way past your bedtime anyway. I don't know how we're still standing as it is, with the jet-lag. Tell everyone good-night." Glenda stood and gave him a nudge.

"Will you give me an RBI when you get back?" Joss asked his father.

"You know I will." Jonathan hugged him.

He moved around the table, stopping in front of Jennifer. "You can give me an RBI too, if you want."

"Oh..." She was caught off guard by the tightness of his arms around her neck. "Okay."

Glenda shooed him back inside, leaving them alone. Marta appeared once, confirming the morning schedule before retiring for the night. They sat in silence, listening to the sound of the water.

"Shall we stretch our legs?" He asked. "Take a little walk?

"I'd love to." She gave a friendly nod.

The moon was almost full, giving them just enough light to find their way. It was only a couple hundred yards down to the beach and once there, she abandoned her sandals. The sand was cool but dry and it felt good between her toes.

"I'll never forget the time we were down here and you landed that blue fin." He chuckled. "And I know Max never forgot."

"Beginner's luck." Jennifer grinned. "Nothing more."

"You know, Max rarely ever got mad, but he was some kind of upset that day."

"Well, he shouldn't have bet against me."

"No, he sure shouldn't have." He agreed. "I think he was mad that he let that one local guy at the fishing shop talk him in to all those fancy lures. And there you were, using measly little squid. Max goes home empty handed and you land the record breaker of the week."

"Sixty-two pounds, four ounces." She said proudly.

"That was one helluva fish."

"It almost killed me."

"You fought and fought it." He laughed. "I think you slept for two straight days after you finally pulled it in the boat."

"The beginning and end of my career as a deep sea fisherman."

"Here's a fisherman name from your past. Are you ready?" He looked out at the waves. "Stelios."

It only took her seconds to conjure the image of the grey-haired man. His short, stubby fingers, stringing new line through oversized reels. His skin, dark and wrinkled by years spent fishing the waters of his homeland.

"Stelios Verga." Jennifer said with a smile.

"Bet you haven't thought of him in years."

"No, I certainly haven't." She shook her head. "Have you seen him? He can't still be alive, can he?"

"No, no, he died many years ago. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I ran down his son, Khristos, this morning. He's running his family business, along with his two boys. I've arranged to have him take us out. You know, for Max...to take care of his final request."

"Alright." She nodded.

"I realize I could just charter another boat and we could do this right away, but I really want it-"

"No, it _has _to be Stelios's boat." Her point was clear. "He was our guide. That's what Max would've wanted."

"That's how I feel. It's gonna be a few days though. He has other commitments that he can't change. Is that going to be a _problem _for you?"

"I don't think so." She knew what he was hinting at.

He parked on the sand and quietly observed the waves. She sat down beside him, wondering if he had anything else to add or if their conversation would end here.

"So, was it a big shouting match? Did someone storm out in a fit of rage or did you just quietly go your separate ways?"

Was he truly that intuitive or had she allowed her eyes to reveal more than just fatigue?

"A little of both." She admitted honestly, looking down at her ring.

"Well, he wouldn't be much of a man, and certainly not deserving of you, if he didn't put up some degree of a fight, now would he?"

He smiled at her in such a way that she was helpless to do anything but smile back.

"No...I guess not."

"You know, he could have come with you and-"

"He's at a conference." She stopped him. "Denver. All week."

"Have you talked to him? Let him know you made it in alright?"

"I left him a voicemail. I haven't heard back from him yet though."

"Well, when you do hear from him, go easy on him, okay?" He looked at her with a familiar, knowing look. "He's just a man...and we're hopelessly flawed."

She wasn't sure how to respond. His honesty was so unexpected. It was easier now, like two old friends picking up where they'd left off twenty years before. When he turned and looked at her, she felt something pulling her from inside.

"I never in a million years thought you'd come." He spoke softly. "What made you change your mind?"

"Max's letters." She said with a sigh.

"So you've read yours?"

"Only one. The first one he wrote."

"You're one ahead of me then."

"You've not read any yet?

"Nope." He shook his head. "Not yet."

"He was afraid to tell you." She said after a long pause. "He didn't want you to fight a losing battle."

"It was always about protecting me." He ran his hand across lightly across the sand, thinking about a stack of envelopes waiting inside his suitcase. "Right up until the end."

"All he wanted was for you to be there with him." She felt a lump in her throat. "And you gave him that. That and so much more." She reached and touched his shoulder warmly.

"And now that you're here, I know I can make it through this one, last thing." He held her eyes; his heart beating double time.

It was the same look he had when they locked eyes for the first time following the memorial service...and she had to look away. He sensed a sudden tension and decided it was time to drop the subject of Max for the night.

"What are the chances a body will wash up here in front of us?" He radically changed the subject.

"What?" Her head snapped in his direction.

"I think it was a night just like tonight, wasn't it?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"The dead body. Down in the Keys. Or was it Hawaii?"

"Jonathan, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Phillip and Phoebe Twist. Taking one of many romantic strolls along a moonlit beach, only to be interrupted by a dead body floating in the water." He smirked. "Come to think of it, they got _interrupted_ a lot, didn't they?"

She laughed out loud; her first real laugh in days.

"You read my books?" She asked.

"The whole series." He admitted. "They're really good."

"So Glenda isn't my only fan, is that what you're telling me?"

"No." He shook his head. "What I'm telling you is that I think I'm entitled to a royalty or two."

"What?" She hollered. "How do you figure that?"

"Oh I don't know." He grinned. "Phillip reminds me an awful lot of someone I know."

"Is that so?" She bit back a smile.

"And some of the conversations between he and Phoebe? Very familiar. Almost like I've heard them somewhere before."

"Maybe you're just swept away by my compelling prose."

"Maybe you stole some of my best material."

They smiled at each other for a minute-and during that time, one thought lodged itself firmly in his forefront of his mind.

_Jonathan Hart, you've made some pretty big mistakes in your life, but this one..._

Now he was the one feeling the tension and it forced him to look away. The conversation quieted at this point. They sat side by side for a while, just watching the water roll in and out.

"So how did you meet? You and this Ashley fellow?" He asked.

"It's Leslie." She corrected, knowing perfectly well that Jonathan knew not only his name, but probably his shoe size, golf handicap and beverage of choice.

"Oh right. _Leslie_." He repeated the name. "He's your boss, right?"

"In some respects." Jennifer knew he was trying to push a button, but in a mischievous sort of way.

"Let me guess. You met at the faculty Christmas party?"

"No." She shook her head, unsure if she was willing to go down this road with him.

"He accidentally rear-ended your car in the parking lot after a Vassar football game." He teased. "No wait, Vassar doesn't have a team."

"He gave me his cab." She informed him.

"Oh." He nodded. "Very chivalrous."

"Yes it was." She confirmed. "And he is."

"Nice rock you got there." He took her left hand in his and held it up, carefully inspecting the ring. "What is that? Two? Two and a half karats?"

"A little under three." She quickly pulled her hand back.

"It's beautiful. Not as big as the one I gave you..." He winked.

"I didn't realize it was a contest." She turned her nose up at him playfully.

"When's the big day again?" He asked after a pregnant pause.

"We haven't set a date. Maybe December. Maybe January."

"Well, it's always good to keep your options open."

"What about you?" Jennifer took a turn at getting personal. "I mean, does Joss talk to his mom regularly? Does she know you're here in Greece?"

"I let her PA know. She's got my number if she wants to reach us. She's shooting a movie right now." He slipped his boat shoes off, burying his feet in the sand. "She's in Spain."

"She's an actress?"

"Director. Independent films. Documentaries. Stuff you probably never heard of starring people you wouldn't know."

"Oh." Jennifer tried to picture the second Mrs. Hart.

"I'm sure it's important work." He sighed. "As in, important to someone. Just not important to me."

"How did you two meet?"

"We were introduced by mutual friends."

"Really." She nodded. "Anyone I might know?"

"Scott and Blair Tracy." He thought a minute. "I don't think you knew them."

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"Everyone I knew had the perfect someone for me. But I was done with being set up. I wasn't even going to show. It was Max, actually, that made me keep the date. He gave me the whole _gentleman _speech-yada, yada. And the funny thing is, he never liked Marcella. All that, _'do the right thing'_ and _'you can't just leave her hanging'_ backfired on him." Jonathan laughed. "After that, he never made comment one about my personal affairs."

"How long were you married?"

"Long enough." He joked. "Let's just say that I have this affinity for smart, beautiful women and sometimes that clouds my judgment."

"Is that so?"

"And the really independent ones, in particular. _Those_ are the fish that kill _me_."

"But it couldn't have been all bad. You've got a little man up there that's pretty incredible."

"Yes I do. And he's beyond incredible."

"Hey, what's an RBI?" Jennifer asked. "Joss said something about it earlier."

"_Rascal bedded in_. That's baseball talk for a tuck-in. Another Max-ism. He had a million of 'em for Joss."

"Got it." She smiled. "I'll try to remember."

"Listen, I want to apologize for earlier. He talked your ear off from the word go. I'm really sorry about that. It's just that he's excited and-"

"It's okay." She reassured him. "He's precious, Jonathan. Nothing about Joss bothers me."

"We should probably head back up soon. I'm sure he's wondering what's taking us so long."

"He's got a big day on tap tomorrow. I hope he likes what I got him."

"You didn't need to get him anything. Glenda brought the equivalent of Santa's bag with her."

"Of course I did. It's his _pretend_ birthday, after all. I went the pirate route. Hat, sword, eye patch. Some pirate action figures and a book about pirates too."

He stood and held out his hand to her, pulling her up. She slipped her feet back into her sandals and they stood staring at each other for a moment.

"He'll love it. Of course, just having you here is gift enough. For all of us."

They parted ways at the staircase; Jonathan heading up a floor while she made her way down. Behind the door of her suite she quickly shed her dress, eager to wash off the day of travel and the sand that lingered around her ankles. She checked her cell phone but found that her call to Les had yet to be returned.

The water felt good against her skin and she lingered in the shower way longer than she intended. It was getting late and she knew if she didn't get into bed soon, she'd sleep through Joss's entire birthday celebration.

She searched her suitcase for her nightgown, but found that it had been replaced by something unexpected.

_Jennifer,_

_Regardless of how things stand at the moment, I still want you_

_to go __to bed with my arms around you_.

_I do love you,_

_L._

His note was tucked into the front pocket of his blue pajama top. Tears began to cloud her eyes as she pictured him alone in a Denver hotel room wearing the matching bottoms. It's just something they did. The _PJ split_, he called it. _Oh, Les..._

A sudden knock had her scrambling for a robe. She quickly crossed the room, wiping her eyes with the towel around her neck. She opened the door to find a large, grey shark staring her in the face.

"Special delivery." Jonathan smiled.

"Ah yes." She smiled back. "Buddy."

"Uh, it's Benny."

"Oh right. Benny." She took the stuffed animal from him.

"Joss said to tell you that he likes the left side of the bed."

"I'll see that he's given every comfort."

"Listen, I want you to sleep in tomorrow-as late as you like. Joss and I are gonna do some wade fishing in the morning. We won't pull out the cake and balloons until later. Just make yourself comfortable."

"Thanks. I will."

He leaned against the frame of the door. The look on his face told her had had more to say. She waited, watching his eyes.

"I want to thank you...for earlier." He said; his words almost a whisper.

"I didn't do anything."

"Yeah, you did. We had a real grown-up conversation. I haven't done that in a while and it felt damn good. And you listened. Not everyone knows how to do that." He dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment. "You know, no one really knows the Max part of my life. Not the way you do." His blue eyes returned to hers, showing that same raw honesty she observed on the beach. "I'm so glad I don't have to do this without you."


	8. Chapter 8

"Did I wake you?" He asked.

"What time is it?" Her words were heavy and slow.

"Your time? About nine o'clock. It's midnight here."

"Oh." She strained to read the numbers on the clock.

"I got your message. That you made it alright."

"Uh, yes," She yawned. "I did."

"Made your connection okay?"

"No problems whatsoever. Even made an earlier flight than what I booked."

"Well, that's good." He hesitated, unsure if she was ready to find some peaceful ground. "Did you get my note?"

"Yes, I did." She fingers ran down the buttons of his pajama top. "Your arms were around me all night."

"I put your nightgowns in the big zipper pocket of your suitcase, just in case...you know, in case you were still mad as hell at me."

"I found them. And I'm not mad as hell." She sighed. "Disappointed. Hurt. But not mad. Not anymore."

"Don't play the hurt and disappointed cards. Not when I'm five thousand miles away with no way to make amends. I'd rather have mad as hell."

"If you wake me up at the crack of dawn again, you'll get your wish."

"How's Greece?" He relaxed a little, thankful for a little humor.

"Hasn't changed. Still beautiful. How's Denver?"

"Same as it ever was. I wish I there with you."

"Me too."

"How's your room? I bet you have an incredible view."

She quickly sat up, taking inventory of the suite. Her heartbeat shot from a jog to a full sprint when her eyes found the grey stuffed shark on the pillow beside her. She didn't know if her jet-lagged mind could handle the world-class shouting match that would erupt if she told him the truth. She'd tell him. Of course she'd tell him...in time.

_He said room...not hotel...he said room...so technically..._

"It's very nice." She mumbled, immediately weighed down with tremendous guilt. "How's yours?"

"Standard business traveler. Nothing special. No ocean views, of course."

"Well, it's just for a few more days."

"I just want to be back home...with you." He sighed heavily. "I hate the way we left things. I was cold and immature. I'm so sorry I acted the way I did, Jennifer. It was wrong. I was wrong. I've had some time to really think about what you're doing and I hope you'll forgive me."

"I'm sorry I walked out on you. That was wrong of me. I just knew we were about to head down a road that I didn't want to travel."

"You had every right to walk away. I was acting like a jealous jerk, and to a woman that only translates into one thing-a lack of trust-which is crazy because I trust you completely. You've never given me a reason not to."

Her heart was pounding as she fought an enormous internal battle between what was right and what was easy. She wanted to tell him the truth-but he just kept talking and soon she lost the opportunity and the nerve.

"It's like you said...why would he show up twenty years after the fact to sweep you off your feet? But I'm a man. We get a little crazy at times, you know? The whole territorial thing. My woman. His turf."

"I get it."

"I know this has nothing to do with your relationship with him. You're there to make a man's last wish come true. And I commend your dedication. It's a noble thing and I disgraced it by acting like an ass." He paused a moment. "I hope you'll forgive me."

"Only if you promise to forgive me." She looked down at her engagement ring. "For everything."

"Jennifer, I love you, Baby. I hope you know that."

"I know you do." She swallowed hard, trying to choke back the guilt. "I love you too."

"When are you going to, well, I mean, will you take care of Max's ashes today or..."

"It's gonna be a few days. Max was really close with one of the local fishing guides. An old man named Stelios. He died about fifteen years ago. His son now runs his business. He's going to take us out on his father's boat."

"I see. A bit of symbolism there then."

"It's the only boat on the island worthy of the task, yes."

"I'm sure Max would be really touched."

"I think he would." She agreed.

"So what's on your agenda for today? Lounging by the pool? Sightseeing?"

"It's Jonathan's son's birthday. He's invited me to a party they're having at the beach."

"Well that sounds like fun. I'm sure you'll have a good time." He checked his jealousy, trying his best to sound upbeat and supportive.

"He's a darling little boy. He actually turned six right before Max died. They didn't really get a chance to celebrate then, so this is their way of making up for it. His _pretend_ birthday, as Joss calls it."

"Well, go enjoy yourself."

"I will."

"Wear plenty of sunscreen. I don't want you to burn that beautiful skin."

"Like I need another freckle. Nothing less than SPF 50, I promise."

"If you want to call me later...just to say goodnight..."

"I'll try." She said.

"If you can't, I understand. I'll give you a call tomorrow morning. About this same time? Is that okay?"

"That's fine. Maybe my body clock will be regulated by then."

"Don't change a thing about that body-clock or otherwise. I like it just the way it is."

"I'll do my best."

"Will you do me a favor?" His voice was more serious.

"Anything."

"Remember two things-that I love you and I trust you."

They split the day between the pool and the beach, enjoying simple pleasures. Sandcastles. Kites. Water guns. Waves. Glenda joined in for a few minutes here and there, but for the most part it was just the three of them. They only took one indoor break, and that was to grab lunch and put the finishing touches on Joss's birthday cake. Jennifer was exhausted-slightly sunburned and out of gas. She barely had enough energy to shower and gear up for Round Two-dinner, cake and presents.

Jonathan took care of the entire menu personally, preparing his signature steak kabobs and a few other dishes; Joss playing sous chef. Jennifer and Glenda were ordered to relax. They didn't argue; each stretching out on a chaise lounge with a glass of chardonnay. Jennifer watched him through the large glass doors, amazed by his energy to dance back and forth between the kitchen and the grill. But every time he looked at Joss, she found her answer. Working for his son's happiness wasn't really work.

Again they dined outside, surrounded by dozens of balloons in the birthday boy's favorite shade of blue. A light breeze ushered in sunset, gently blowing a brightly colored piñata hanging from a beam overhead. Astrud Gilberto's samba sound drifted from the living room stereo into the space, mixing with Joss's voice as he highlighted his favorite happenings of the day. By the time Glenda delivered the cake, the sun had disappeared behind the sea. Jennifer watched Joss's eyes, full of joy as his father lit each candle. They sang to him-Jonathan adding his own silly flair to the traditional lyrics.

"Time to make a wish, Champ." Jonathan moved his chair closer.

"Make it a good one." Glenda encouraged.

Joss thought a moment. Jennifer grinned, trying to imagine the host of images that might be running through his head. But he did something no one expected. Carefully, he pushed the cake over in front of his father.

"I think you should make the wish, Daddy. You need it more than me, now that Uncle Max is gone."

Jonathan caught Jennifer's eye-he was completely taken aback by his son's gesture.

"Aw Joss, that's the nicest offer anyone ever made me. But I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. Birthday magic only works for the birthday boy. And today that's not me," He shook his head and pushed the cake back. "it's you."

"Oh." Joss looked up at his father, suddenly disappointed.

"It's okay, Buddy. I'll get to make a wish on _my_ birthday." He draped his arm around Joss's shoulder. "But this one's for you and I want you to make it really special. Anything you want."

Joss thought once more, smiling when he made his decision. He took a deep breath, blowing all six candles out at once. Everyone clapped and Joss surprised her again-giving her another flirtatious wink, just as he'd done at the funeral. Glenda noticed and nudged Jennifer under the table.

He ripped through his gifts in record time, delighted with each new discovery. When he finally revealed the last present, they were all swimming in a sea of discarded wrapping paper. He gave hugs all around and thanked them all before setting up a base for his new loot on the fireplace hearth. Quietly he entertained himself while Glenda cut the cake. Jonathan and Jennifer each took an end of the long sectional and watched Joss play.

"Oh Glen, this is fantastic." Jonathan remarked after taking his first bite.

"It really is. Absolutely delicious." Jennifer concurred.

Joss stopped just long enough to gobble down a small slice but was eager to return to his new treasures. Glenda sat down on the floor beside him, stealing his new pirate hat for herself and joining in his make-believe world. The CD on the stereo had started over and Jennifer found herself humming along. The room was dim and tranquil and she knew she wasn't going to last long.

"Another glass of wine?" Jonathan asked.

"No way." She said definitively. "If I was any more relaxed..."

"Wiped out?" He smiled.

"A little." She confessed.

"I give you full credit. You were right there with him all day. You didn't slow down once."

"It was a fun day. I haven't really let go like that in...well, let's say it's been a while."

"He loved it." He looked over at his son, now sword fighting with Glenda. "Probably his best birthday ever."

"How is he still going?" Jennifer studied him, noting that he didn't appear the least bit tired.

"Just give it a few minutes. That rich cake is gonna hit him and he'll be out. I bet he sleeps 'til noon tomorrow."

"He may not be the only one." She grinned.

"Jennifer, if you're tired, go on to bed."

"Well, I don't want to be the first to bail on the celebration."

"I think we're about done." He surveyed the damage. "I'll get this paper trail picked up and then I think I'm gonna call it a day myself."

"No, Daddy." Joss interrupted. "I don't want to go to bed yet. I'm not tired."

"You're worse than tired. You're wired." Jonathan confirmed. "You've got all day tomorrow to play." He stood and began scooping up handfuls of wrapping and ribbon. "It's time to say goodnight."

"Yes sir." He said reluctantly.

"I bet I can pick up more paper than you." He taunted.

"Bet you can't."

Joss shot around the room, grabbing every bit of paper in sight. Jennifer smiled, watching their friendly competition. When the living room finally returned to normal, Glenda proudly declared Joss the winner.

"Your old man is losing his edge." He gave his son a playful poke in the ribs. "Now scoot on upstairs and brush your teeth. I'll be up in five for your RBI."

"Daddy, can Jennifer give me my RBI tonight?" He asked.

"Well, I don't know." He looked over at his ex-wife. "You'll have to ask her."

"Jennifer, would you give me an RBI tonight?"

"I would be honored." She smiled warmly. "But you better mind your daddy. Get those teeth brushed and I'll be right up."

He was already in bed when she poked her head in his room-and he was more than ready for her. Beside lamp on and new pirate book in hand.

"Brush your teeth?" She asked.

"Yes ma'am." He flashed a wide, toothy grin.

"I brought you something." She pulled the stuffed shark from behind your back.

"Benny!" He held his arms out for it.

"I have to be honest with you, Joss. Benny didn't have a very good night. He tossed and turned a lot. I don't think he much likes sleeping down with me." She sat down on the edge of his bed. "I think maybe he should stay up here with you."

"Then how will you sleep?"

"Well, I thought that maybe I'd just try to sleep alone tonight-just to see what happens. Maybe I'll sleep fine. And if I don't, then we can try to work something out tomorrow night, okay?"

"Okay." He seemed satisfied with her plan.

"Did you have a fun day?"

"It was great."

"What was your favorite thing?"

"I liked building the sandcastles with you and Daddy. You're a really good builder."

"I used to build lots of sandcastles with my daddy when I was a little girl."

"Here in Greece?"

"Oh, no. I didn't come to Greece until I was grown. No, I built sandcastles at my grandparents beach house on Long Island. That's in New York. My father taught me all sorts of tricks. He was a master sandcastle builder."

"What's his name?"

"Stephen."

Joss grew quiet, slowly digesting the new information. Jennifer could see the wheels spinning in his mind, like he was trying to work through a very complex equation.

"Jennifer, what's your last name?"

"Edwards." She answered.

"Then what's your middle name?"

"It's Frances."

"Oh." He said with a slight nod.

"What's your middle name?" She asked.

"Maxwell. After Uncle Max."

"Of course." She smiled.

"So your name is Jennifer Frances Edwards?" He asked, somewhat confused.

"That's right."

"Then how come Uncle Max always called you Mrs. H?"

Jennifer couldn't help but grin. "Well, because my last name was Hart...when I was married to your daddy. Remember?"

"Oh yeah." He nodded again.

"And when your daddy and I were no longer married, I went back to my old name-Edwards."

"Oh."

"Uncle Max called me Mrs. H. during the time we were married. He never called me Jennifer. It was my special nickname from him."

"He gave me a special nickname too. Little Man. That's what he always called me."

"Max only does that for people he really cares about."

"Then Uncle Max loved you too. As much as he loved me."

"Well, I think he loved you the most."

"No." Joss shook his head. "He loved my daddy the most."

"You know what? I think you're right. They had a very special bond. I know they loved each other in much the same way you and your daddy love each other."

"My daddy didn't have a daddy. It's kinda like me and how I don't have a mom."

"But you do have a mom." Her heart began to beat a little faster. Joss was steering them into unknown waters. "She just can't be with you all the time like your daddy can."

"Oh I'm not sad or anything." He quickly reassured her. "Marcella is just real busy with her movies. She's a director. But she doesn't know any real famous people like Woody or Buzz."

She felt her heart sink. _He calls her by her first name. _She looked into his green eyes, but surprisingly found no real signs of sadness.

"When _do_ you see your mom?"

"I'll be with her next month at her house in Italy. It's huge. And it has a swimming pool too, like this house. But it's not on a beach."

"Well, that sounds nice."

"Marcella is a lot of fun. She takes me to dinner and big parties. She even lets me sit on her lap and drive her car. She has to work the pedals though. But not on big roads. Just the small ones by her house."

"I see."

He looked down at the cover of his new book for a moment. Jennifer held her breath, unsure what he would throw at her next.

"Uncle Max didn't have a nickname for Marcella. He just called her Marcella, like me and my dad."

"So you don't call her Mom or Mommy?" Jennifer pressed, curious to hear his answer.

"Naw. She's not like a real mom." He flipped casually through the book. "Not like you are."

_"Hi." The blond woman stood at the front door. "You don't remember me, do you?"_

_"To be honest, no." Jonathan stared at her with zero recognition._

_"Can I come in?" She asked._

_Jonathan stepped back, somewhat unwillingly, keeping his eyes firmly on her. She walked toward the living room, taking in the beauty of their home._

_"You must be Mrs. Hart." She spoke to the woman on the sofa._

_"Yes I am. And you are?" She stood._

_"You really don't remember me, do you?" The woman turned back to Jonathan._

_"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I really don't." He said._

_"Nine years ago...during the summer..." She looked uncomfortably at his wife._

_"Nine years ago during the summer, I was in the south of France."_

_"Yes, we both were." She looked at Jennifer again._

_"Sit down." He offered._

_"Thank you."_

_"You have a wonderful son." She sat down on the coffee table in front of the stranger._

_"Yes, he is." The woman agreed with a smile. "He really is. That's why I finally decided to bring him to you. He just deserves more than I can give him. He just deserves...something like this."_

_"Your name is?" Jonathan inquired._

_"Connie. I-I guess you'd like some kind of proof that I am who I say I am. Something kind of personal. Um, how 'bout that scar that's shaped like a half-moon?" She gestured with her hands, and Jonathan's posture grew rigid._

_"That's personal alright." She confirmed._

_"I have more proof if-"_

_"No, no. That's fine." She stopped her._

_"Well, you see, the thing is, is that I've changed my mind." The woman said with a sigh._

_"About what?" Jonathan asked._

_"Well I know he'd be better here with you, but I love him and I miss him so much. If you could just give him back to me I promise you we won't bother you anymore."_

_"We don't have him." He said softly._

_"What? What do you mean you don't have him?" The woman searched their eyes._

_"He was taken. Kidnapped. I've got my top contacts at LAPD doing everything they can."_

_"Oh God." She shook her head in denial._

_"They'll be here to tap the phones any minute."_

_The woman fell against the back of the sofa, distraught. "I just pray he's alright." The woman closed her eyes, fearful of what might be happening to her son._

_"So do we." She added._

_"I want to thank you all for everything you're doing." The woman said._

_"I'll bet you do." She said with disgust._

_"Jennifer-" Jonathan cautioned her._

_"I'll just bet you know a lot more than you're telling us." She raised her voice. "Would you like to tell us what you know-"_

_"Darling-" He pulled her from the living room into the kitchen._

_"No, damn it, I want to tell her exactly what I think about it."_

_"I hated to interrupt that marvelous acting of yours but-" He said when they were alone._

_"Who's acting?" She threw her hands up, irritated._

_"That's what I thought."_

_"I don't know what makes me madder-her thinking we're that stupid or the fact that she'd use her own child that way!"_

_"Well remember one thing, we have to get the kid back safely okay, so don't forget about that."_

_"I won't forget." She looked into his eyes. "Do you remember when we got married how we promised that life would be one adventure after the next?"_

_"That's what we said."_

_"Well I have a confession to make. I could do very well without this particular excitement."_

She was still locked inside the bizarre dream when she felt his hand upon her shoulder. It startled her and she turned over to find the silhouette of his petite frame.

"Joss?" She said sleepily. "What's wrong?"

"I don't feel good."

She sat up and focused on the clock beside her bed. Two fifty-six. He was breathing heavy and she could feel the heat radiating from his body. A hand to his forehead confirmed her suspicions.

"Let's get you back upstairs."

She lifted him up into her arms and made the two flight trek to the top floor. She could see the door Jonathan's suite was closed. She hesitated a moment, but continued on to Joss's room. Carefully she placed his limp body on the bed. She reached for the well-loved stuffed shark and nestled it protectively beside him. With a light touch, she brushed wisps of dark hair back away from his face and smiled down at him.

"I'll be right back, okay?"

The boy nodded silently, his eyes now closed. She slipped into his bathroom for a minute and returned with a cold, wet cloth. With a loving hand, she held it against his brow. He looked so small in the queen-size bed. His lips were dry and she could feel his body beginning to shake. She knew his temperature was high and it didn't take long for his fevered body to steal all the coolness from the cloth.

"Jonathan!" She called out into the quiet night; her voice echoing off the marble floors.

Within seconds she heard a door open and fast footsteps coming down the hall. He entered Joss' room, surprised to see Jennifer sitting on the bed. The light from the bathroom fell across them and he knew immediately that something was wrong.

She looked up at him with eyes full of worry. "He's burning up."

"Keep the washcloth cold. I'll see if I can find a thermometer."

His words were direct but not filled with panic. He disappeared from the doorway and she could hear him taking the stairs two at a time. She ran the washcloth under the tap once more and returned to his bed. Within a couple of minutes Jonathan returned, followed by Glenda.

"Hey Champ." He sat down cautiously on the opposite side of the bed. "Daddy's here. And Glen too. We have to take your temperature, okay?"

He slipped the thermometer between the boy's parched lips and held it in place. Joss never moved or said a word. Jennifer looked at Glenda apprehensively as she started to move back off the bed.

"No, you're fine. Stay there." Glenda held out a small bottle filled with thick, pink liquid her. "Give him two teaspoons of this. I'll go get him something to drink."

Jennifer took the bottle from her and filled the dosing cup. She watched Jonathan from the corner of her eye, seeing concern but not alarm on his face. The thermometer beeped and Jonathan held it at arm's length, trying to read the small, digital display.

"I can't read this damn thing." He handed it to Jennifer.

She held it up toward the bathroom light. "One-oh-two point eight."

"Can you help me? We need to sit him up." Jonathan slid his arm underneath the boy's body and Jennifer assisted from the other side. "Buddy, we need you to take this." He watched as Jennifer pressed the small cup to his lips. "It's the bubble gum medicine, the kind that you like."

Joss opened his eyes and looked up at Jennifer. He raised his warm hand and held it against the back of hers, swallowing the medicine without complaint. Glenda returned with a chilled water bottle. Jonathan managed to get a few sips in him before letting his head fall gently back against the pillow.

"What was his temp?" She asked.

"Almost one-oh-three." He looked down at Joss, smoothing his hair back with a loving hand.

"Well, hopefully you caught it in time and we won't have to put him in a cool bath."

"I didn't catch it. Jennifer did."

"He just wandered down to my room. I don't know how he managed to make it down two flights of stairs. He was a limp noodle when I carried him up here."

"I can sit here with him if you two-" Glenda offered.

"I got it." Jonathan reassured her.

"Jennifer?" The woman looked at her.

"I'll stay for a few minutes. You go on back to bed."

"Holler if you need me." She gave Jonathan's shoulder a pat.

"Will do. G'night Glen."

She left them alone again and the room fell silent. Jennifer made a third trip to the bathroom to re-wet the cloth. When she returned she found Jonathan spooned up against his son, wearing a peaceful expression. She resumed her spot and put the cloth back in place. There was no sound for several minutes. Jonathan watched her, making note of the softness in her eyes.

"Thank you." He whispered with a thankful smile.

"I'm so sorry he's sick. Poor little guy."

"You should try to get some sleep. I can take it from here."

"You're sure?"

"We're fine. You go on down."

"Alright." She inched her way gently off the bed. "Please come and get me if you need to."

"I will." He nodded. "It's probably just a twenty-four hour thing. It happens."

"Jennifer..." Joss whispered in a weak voice.

"I'm right here." She leaned over him.

"Will you...read me...the pirate book again?"

"Not now, Sweet Boy. In the morning. I promise." She touched his head tenderly. "Right now you need to rest."

"Please don't go." He held a shaky hand out to her.

She looked at Jonathan, gripped by something in his blue eyes. Something that roped her soul and dragged her back in time-to a place she liked to pretend didn't exist.

_"I'd promised Iain that I would take on the World Team Medical piece. It was my job, Jonathan!" She shouted._

_"You promised Iain?" He yelled. "What about the promise you made to me? Your husband?"_

_"I had to finished up the piece for the game ranch in Kenya and the other one for Iain. And then I got the assignment in China. I knew you wouldn't let me travel out of the country by myself. " Her world was crumbling...by her own design. "I was wrong, Jonathan, I know that. That's why I stopped taking them two months ago, I swear!"_

_"And your sudden bout of guilt is supposed to make it all better? Is that what you think? It's been over a year since the World Team piece! A year full of nothing but your lies!" He turned away from her and threw the green plastic packet against the wall with every ounce of force he could summon. "To think that I went to the doctor to get checked. Like it was my goddamn problem!" He screamed._

_"If you would stop screaming at me for one minute and-"_

_"Do you have any idea how it feels to be lied to? By the person you trust most?" He cut her off. "I go into the bathroom for a couple of aspirin and find my wife's birth control pills! Pills that she supposedly quit taking over a year ago!"_

_"I said I'm sorry!" Tears overtook her and she could barely get the words out._

_"All this time..." His angry eyes cut into her. "All this 'Aw Baby, we'll try again next month.' It was always you consoling me, wasn't it? And it was all an act. A sick, self-serving act."_

_"I wasn't ready." She found her voice again, shouting back. "Did you ever consider that fact? My god, Jonathan, you can push and push and push, because you see something you want and there's no stopping you. But did you ever consider for even a second that maybe I wasn't ready? Or that maybe I never wanted children to begin with?"_

_"You're not worthy to be anyone's mother." Tears fell from his eyes and he slammed the door of their bedroom behind him._

"Jennifer..." He said her name again, pulling her back from darkest scene of her adult life.

"Shhh." She curled up next to him, forcing the painful past from her mind. "How 'bout I stay here 'til you fall asleep?"

The boy closed his eyes, signaling his approval. He searched for her hand, lacing his little fingers through hers when he found it. Jonathan's eyes were still on her. They stared at each other, Joss's small body between them, for what seemed like an eternity. Her heart felt as though it might ignite; beating so that she was sure he could hear it. Thoughts were moving through her head like a runaway train-a picture of a blond, rugged man in the forefront. It was then she realized she was lying there in his pajama top; her bare legs exposed.

He never looked away and with each second that passed, the image of Leslie Huston grew hazier and hazier. He didn't say a word but smiled and closed his eyes...covering their hands with his own.


	9. Chapter 9

"How's the patient?" Glenda asked.

"Marta's soup was a hit. He finished off the whole bowl." Jennifer placed the large tray on the kitchen counter. "He moved into Jonathan's room. They're watching a movie together."

"How's the nursemaid then? You've done a week's worth of step-aerobics going up and down those stairs today."

"What?" Jennifer grinned. "Oh, I'm fine."

"Well, I think you deserve a little break." She pulled a bottle of wine from the chiller. "What do you say we take advantage of that view for a while?"

"That sounds wonderful."

They stretched out on the chaise lounges on the veranda. The air was a touch cooler than it had been that morning and the breeze relaxed her almost instantly.

"It's too bad the whole world doesn't have a view like this."

"Isn't that the truth." Jennifer agreed. "Is this your first time over here?"

"On Rhodes? Yes. But my late husband and I did vacation in Athens years ago. I fell in love with everything Greek. We only came the one time though."

"How long ago did you lose your husband? If you don't mind my asking, I mean."

"Oh I don't mind. He's been gone almost five years now. Ironically, he was taken by the same cancer as Max."

"Really?"

"I think it's helped me to help Jonathan-having gone through the same thing, you know."

"He's told me many time that you've been his saving grace through everything."

"Well, I try to be there when he needs me and stay out of his way when he doesn't. That was Max's number one rule when he talked to me about taking over for him. _Know your place, Glen_, he said.

"You know, I've been meaning to ask you...how did you and Max meet?"

"We met about a year ago at a dance club for seniors. He asked me to dance. We started talking and it just went from there. We had a lot in common. Hobbies and interests. Cooking. Dancing. Bridge."

"So you were pretty _close_ then?" Jennifer hinted.

"We were close, but just friends. It was never romantic. He had several lady friends that he saw in that respect. We were just pals."

"Well, it's obvious that he saw something very special in you. He wouldn't have left his family in the care of just anyone."

They sipped their wine and moved on to other topics. Beach reads. Travel. Her grandchildren. At one point she retrieved her phone and shared several pictures of a beautiful brother-sister duo.

"Caleb is twelve. Cassidy is nine." She said proudly.

"They're gorgeous. Where do they live?"

"Up in Pasadena. My daughter and son-in-law have a landscape architecture firm there."

"And they're your only grandchildren?"

"No. My son Kevin has a seventeen year old boy. Joshua. They live in Dallas. My son's a defense attorney there. I don't have any recent photos of him." She scrolled through her photos. "He reminds me a lot of Jonathan actually. My son, I mean. He's a single dad too, raising a son by himself."

"Well, I know you're proud and you have every reason to be. You have a very beautiful family."

"They are pretty special."

The conversation quieted as Glenda turned her face back toward the water. Jennifer took advantage of the moment and closed her eyes. But the silence didn't last long.

"You never had any children?"

The warms rays of light off the water were suddenly replaced by a stark hospital room, as Jennifer's mind jumped back in time. The memory was still fresh.

_"Pa...?" She whispered._

_"He'll be right back. I'm here. You're going to be alright." He gently brushed her hair back off her forehead._

_"Can we go home now?" She spoke with a heavy tongue._

_"Not yet. Dr. O'Connell said in a day or two."_

_"But I want to..."_

_"Shhh. Please don't try to talk. Just close those beautiful eyes of yours and rest." He gave her hand a tender squeeze._

_"Is the baby alright...?" Her voiced trailed off as she bounced in and out of consciousness._

"Jennifer?" She said again.

"Uh, no." She shook her head. "No children."

"And your fiancé? Does he have kids?"

"No. He was married before too, but they never had children."

"Oh, I see." Glenda nodded.

Jennifer sensed there was more coming. The obvious question she felt the woman was dying to ask. She closed her eyes once more and waited, ready for whatever query she made. _What happened between the two of you? Why the divorce? You seem so perfect for one another?_ She knew them all...they'd been asked so many times before.

"You would have been a wonderful mother, if you don't mind me saying so."

"Well thank you." She smiled, somewhat surprised by this comment.

"And I'm not the only one who thinks so."

"Really?"

"A little bird told me all about a certain, _special_ birthday wish."

"What did this little bird say, exactly?"

"Evidently, this little bird is concerned that you don't have any children of your own. And he also pointed out that he doesn't have a _real _mom...so he's thinking that maybe you two might should fill these _voids_ for each other."

"What?" Jennifer smiled. "He said that to you?"

"The truth? He asked me if my feelings would be hurt if I moved _out _and you moved _in_." The woman grinned.

"He didn't." Jennifer laughed.

"He most certainly did." Glenda gave a nod. "He's got some big ideas about you, so just be warned."

"He talked about his mother last night, when I tucked him in." Jennifer recalled their conversation. "I thought it was interesting that he calls his mother by her first name."

"Ah yes..." Glenda sighed. "_Marcella_. I've noticed that too."

"Have you met Joss's mother?" Jennifer asked, her inquisitive nature showing.

"No. But Max told me all about her."

"Jonathan mentioned that Max wasn't a big fan."

"Max got along with everyone, but she was a different story."

"I wonder why."

"He couldn't understand why she didn't want to be Joss's life. How she could be satisfied with a week here and there."

"I've wondered the same myself."

"Well, the bottom line is that some women just aren't cut out to be mothers. Obviously, Marcella is one of those women."

"Marcella is one of what women?" Jonathan strolled onto the veranda, interrupting their girl talk.

"The kind that don't know a good thing when they see one." Glenda said to him matter-of-factly.

"Amen to that." Jonathan gave her a wink.

"How's Joss?" Jennifer asked.

"Asleep." Jonathan sat down on the end of her chaise. "I think he's down for the count."

"And the fever?"

"I think he's over it."

"Thank goodness."

"Jonathan, can I get you something? Glass of wine? It'll be a while before Marta starts dinner." Glenda asked.

"Actually, there's an errand I'd like to run. And I'd like you to go with me, if you feel like it." He looked at his ex-wife.

"Sure."

"I just got off the phone with Khristos. He can take us out tomorrow afternoon. I thought we might run into town a pick out a wreath...you know...to take with us when we..."

"I think that would be really nice."

"If we leave soon," He eyed his watch. "We can be back in time for dinner."

"Well don't rush." Glenda added. "Joss isn't eating obviously. That leaves just me. And there's plenty left over from last night. In fact, if you want to grab a bite while you're out, that would be fine with me."

"We could do that." He looked to Jennifer, trying to gauge her response. "Jennifer?"

"I'm game for whatever."

"It would be a waste for Marta to make another big meal. We're stockpiled from last night. And neither of you have set foot outside today. Take a break. Go stretch your legs and knock around town for a bit. I can handle sick bay." Glenda added.

"You sure?" He asked her.

"You two have earned an evening out and a little _grown-ups only_ time."

They found a parking spot on a side street just around the corner from the florist. The main square was full of bodies-locals and tourists gearing up for the evening hours. They had no time to spare before shopkeepers closed their doors for the night. As luck had it, they made it into the floral shop just two minutes before closing. A brief explanation of what was needed was delivered to the store owner by Jennifer, in fluent, flawless Greek. It still amazed him-her ability to pick up languages and speak them with what appeared to be a native tongue.

"He knows Khristos well. Says he can have it delivered to the boat for us. That would save us a stop here tomorrow." She informed him.

"That would be great. Let's do it." Jonathan pulled his wallet out.

"No, I'd really like to get this." She pushed his hand away.

"Okay." He consented without argument.

With the task complete, they set out on foot in search of a quiet restaurant. They strolled by quaint shops, most now closed for the day. They did stumble across a corner market, still bustling with business. They darted inside to soak up a minute's worth of free air conditioning. Jennifer spied a beautiful wooden ship, hand carved and bearing a tiny canvas sail.

"I know someone that would love this." She picked it up.

"And it would be kindling wood in about two minutes."

"No it wouldn't. I've seen how he is with his things. He's not like some kids-hell bent to destroy everything in their path."

"No, you're right. He does take pretty good care of his stuff."

"I want to get it for him."

"Jennifer, he's got a stack of toys and games back at the villa that a circus dog couldn't jump over."

"He doesn't have one of these." She inspected the boat from every angle, impressed with it's elaborate detail. "And he's going to be sad tomorrow when he finds out we're going out on a boat without him."

"So a boat for us and a boat for him, is that it?"

"Exactly."

"Give it here." He sighed and held his hand out. "I'll get it."

"No." She pulled it back protectively. "This is a gift from me. I'll get it."

"You already took care of the flowers."

"Don't worry, you'll get your chance." She smiled. "Dinner's on you."

Long lines and too much noise kept them walking for several blocks in search of a suitable restaurant. After a chat with one of the locals, Jennifer led them to a quiet, out-of-the-way cafe. They were seated immediately and Jonathan ordered a bottle of wine-one he knew was her favorite.

"You remembered?" She smiled as he poured her a glass.

"How could I forget? You downed almost an entire bottle by yourself that one night when we were at that resort on Maui."

"Oh. Right." She felt her face start to blush.

"C'mon." He teased. "Don't look so embarrassed."

"Why would I be embarrassed?" She smiled back. "I don't recall a sign that said_No dancing on the tables_."

"For the record, you weren't on the table. You were standing on your chair...doing the hula and leading the whole bar in a rousing chorus of Tiny Bubbles."

She looked away, trying to bite back a grin. "And you know what makes that scene pathetic?"

"What?" He asked.

"The fact that you _let_ me."

"Jennifer," He looked her in the eye. "if there's one thing I've learned in my fifty six years it's that you can't stop a determined woman from doing anything."

Though his eyes said otherwise, she couldn't help but wonder if his comment had a darker, underlying meaning.

"And if she's had a drop too much of the grape?" She kept the mood light.

"Three words." He grinned and raised his glass. "Duck and cover."

Their conversation flowed as easily as the wine. For a while they forgot everything-Max and illness-and focused on the lively tales of their past. It hardly seemed possible-that a marriage lasting less than seven years could produce so much adventure. They verbally revisited dozens of locales. . Shanghai. Sydney. She couldn't remember a time when she'd laughed more. _Jonathan Hart, you are still the world's greatest storyteller._

"I noticed something." He refilled her glass. "Phillip and Phoebe went to a lot of the same places we did."

"And we're back to your royalties once again." She rolled her eyes.

"But they never came here." He continued. "Why?"

"It's funny you should mention that." She ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass. "Because I did have a book planned-what would have been the eighth and final book of the series, but it never happened."

"Why not?"

"Two reasons I guess. First, my editor hated my idea and secondly, I started writing again. Real journalism."

"Is that when you went to work at Harper's?"

"How did you know I was at Harper's?"

"Copious research. I'm famous for it, remember?"

"The EIC made me an offer I couldn't refuse. I said goodbye to Phillip and Phoebe and moved to New York."

"And you left Harper's for Vassar?"

"I couldn't take the travel anymore. It's was just too much. Of course, I was at a point in my career when I called my own shots. But sitting behind a desk while the young ones chased down the stories..." She looked away for a moment. "I was jealous. Bottom line. I wanted to be the one flying in and out of hot button countries or running down politicians. I couldn't keep pace. Not the way I wanted to. Then I met Les and..."

"And it was the right time...to slow down." He locked on her eyes.

"Something like that." She felt her heart beat increase.

It was the first uncomfortable silence of the evening. Thankfully the waiter appeared, with offers of dessert and Ouzo. Jennifer shook her head, unwilling to commit to either. Jonathan asked for the check and in minutes they were back on the street.

Their non-stop chatter stayed back at the restaurant. They walked quietly for a while. Jennifer caught her breath several times, seeing their reflection in dark store windows. It was surreal-to be back on the island where it truly started for them. Even the passage of time couldn't undermine the fact that, side by side, they were an incredibly striking couple. It was almost comical, she thought-the number of passers-by that smiled huge smiles when they walked by. It had always been that way. There was a sort of magic about them...and it lingered even now.

"I have a confession to make." Jonathan spoke.

"What's that?" She asked.

"I passed on dessert 'cause I want another piece of Joss's birthday cake when we get back."

"I'll slice and serve if you'll pour the milk." She offered.

"Done." He confirmed.

They were just a few streets from the car when they began to get swallowed up into a large crowd. Lights and loud techno music blaring from a club on the corner shattered their quiet evening. Bodies darted around them and instinctively Jonathan reached for her hand. With a firm grip he lead her through the mob, shouting just to be heard.

"They're playing our song." Jonathan hollered. "What do you say?" He motioned toward the door of the club.

"It's after nine." She yelled, checking her watch. "We should go back. He might be running fever again and-"

"And Glen would have called me if there was a problem." Jonathan smiled, touched by a side of her he'd never known. "But you're right, we should."

As they crowd thinned, he loosened his grip and eventually released her hand. It was just a gesture of protection. She knew he would have done the same if it had been Glenda there with him. So why was her heart suddenly working overtime?

Their endless conversation continued on the ride back. Yet, every topic seemed to somehow find it's way back to Joss. Jennifer balanced the box containing the wooden ship on her lap, eager to see his face.

"Do you think Glenda is still up?" She asked.

"I doubt it. She's not much of a night owl. Of course, Joss could be wide awake and raring to go, fully recovered. He may have forced her to walk the plank by now."

"You think those action figures I got him will fit inside this?" She held the boat up once more.

"You know, I'm gonna have to pull rank on you here." Jonathan glanced and caught her eye.

"Okay." She said warily.

"You've gotta hide that 'til in the morning. If he's awake and sees it, then it's all over. He'll want to jump right in the pool with it. Or the bathtub at least. And I'm not up for a splash fest at this hour."

"How 'bout I leave it in the car?" She suggested.

"That sounds like a good plan."

They drove on along the coast. The wind had picked up and she watched the whitecaps out the window. She moved her head back and forth, the pain still aching despite several glasses of wine.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Nothing."

"Yes there is. Something's wrong with your neck?"

"Oh, I just slept wrong I guess." She rubbed the back of her neck.

"It's called _sleeping in the same bed with a six year old_. Does it every time."

"No, I don't think that's it. It wasn't bothering me when I went down to my room. I did this to myself."

"What time did you bail out of Joss's bed?"

"A little before six."

"I made it till five. I thought about waking you up, but the two of you looked so peaceful..."

"He's an angel, Jonathan." She said, thinking back to the wink he gave her; candles highlighting his face.

"He sure is." He said softly.

The villa was dark when the pulled up. He parked around back and they entered the house via the veranda doors. Only the lamps in the living room remained lit. Jonathan spied the cake on the large island along with two small plates and two forks, just waiting for them.

"Glenda knows me too well."

"She certainly does." Jennifer ran her fingers along her neck once more.

"If you'll do the honors, I'll go up and check on Joss."

"Give him a hug for me."

He disappeared upstairs and she went to work. When he made it back down, just a minute later, she had cake and milk ready.

"Everything okay?" She asked.

"He and Glen are crashed out in my bed."

"I guess he's okay then."

"He's fine." He reassured her. "Here, I brought you these." He held out two small blue pills to her. "For your neck."

"Thank you." She took them from his hand.

"In here or outside?" He picked up the plates.

"It's so nice out, I vote outside."

She followed him out and took her same chaise. Jonathan sat down across from her, happy to stretch out and listen to the surf.

"Glenda is some fabulous baker." Jonathan remarked after the first bite.

"Glenda is some fabulous everything."

"Hey, what were you two talking about earlier? She said something about Marcella...and not knowing a good thing...?"

"Last night when I was up with Joss, he was talking about his mom. Only he called her Marcella."

"Yeah, about that..." He put his fork down. "I know I should probably do something about that, but he doesn't want to call her mom or mommy or momma or any variation there of. I've tried to get him to. I guess he's always heard me and Max call her Marcella and he just followed suit."

"He told me it was because Marcella is _not really like a mom_. And that she takes him to big parties and fancy dinners and let's him drive her car."

"Oh God." He shook his head. Jennifer could see the disgust in his eyes. "You know, Joss has been with me exclusively since he was two years old. He doesn't really know her. Not like that. She's a friend to him. They have a wonderful time when they're together. But it's more like camp. And for Marcella, he's more of an accessory than a son."

"Oh Jonathan..." Jennifer's heart broke at hearing more of the truth.

"She and her brothers lived in and out of boarding schools. They were raised by nannies. She never had a real relationship with her mother, so it's no wonder she doesn't know how to take care of Joss. She parents the way she was parented. And as much as I try to remind myself of that fact, it doesn't make it any easier or make me less angry."

"I can only imagine how difficult it's been for you to play a double role. But Jonathan, you have done an amazing job with him. Amazing. That little boy has so much love and respect for himself and others. And you. You've lead by example...and you've created one special young man."

Jonathan looked at her. He knew the honest tone in her voice...and never had a compliment meant more than coming from her.

"I was forty-eight when Marcella and I got married. I knew my time for kids had come and gone. I just wish he'd come into the world under different circumstance and not the way he did." He looked away, but not before she caught the painful expression on face.

"So things were already bad then?"

"I'd already filed for divorce. We were just waiting on a court date." He paused and took a deep breath. "Of course, she'd moved out of the house by this time. She hated California. How a director can hate the movie capital of the world? Anyway, one afternoon, she stopped by the house to pick up a couple of things she'd left. A dress. A coat. I don't remember exactly. I came home early to pack for a business trip. Max was out in Palm Springs with a lady friend, I think. I had no idea she was even there. We talked for a while. It was surprisingly civil. We even laughed a few times. I guess because the pressure was off, hell I don't know. I poured myself a Scotch, asked if she'd join me in a drink. One thing led to another, as the old saying goes and before I realized it, I was waking up beside her in our bed." He let out a heavy sigh.

"Oh." Jennifer nodded, moved that he trusted her enough to share the most private details of his life with another woman. "She was still your wife, Jonathan. You were still legally bound to one another."

"Legally is really the only way we were ever bound." He watched the waves for a minute. "It's not a story I'm proud of. The end result, however, is what I focus on. I got Joss. That's all I think about."

The same quiet that found them at the restaurant returned. She didn't fight it, but took a cue from him and turned her attention out to the sea. Wave after wave rolled in, turning the sands of the world over and over again. Had she made other choices in her life, would she and Jonathan be sitting together now?

"Jennifer?" He whispered softly after several minutes of silence.

"Yes?" Her eyes connected with his.

"Does it ever bother you that...you know...well, I'm not talking about us specifically...but what I'm trying to say is that...do you ever regret not having children?"

She observed the tender expression in his eyes-that same look that caused her to fall as she danced in his arms in a white canvas tent.

"I have a lot of regrets." She admitted. "But I've always believed that everything happens for a reason. That includes children given and children taken away."

"What do you mean?" He detected a sadness in her voice.

"I lost a child." She whispered.

"When was this?" He sat up, swinging his legs in front of him.

"Four years ago." She sighed. "I wasn't quite fifty, but I was right there with you."

"You and Les?" He asked.

She nodded. "Found out on my forty-seventh birthday, if you can believe that. Evidently miracles do happen." She tried to smile. "I was sick for days. Les thought I had the flu. But I knew." She looked away. "I knew."

"What happened?"

"We'd driven down to see my father for a long weekend. I will still in my first trimester. I went out riding one morning, like I've done a million and one times. Pa had just gotten this new mare. She was a little skittish and the ground was pretty wet. A flock of dove flew out from behind this fallen tree. The horse got spooked and down I went. The next thing I know I'm waking up in the hospital."

"Oh God, Jennifer, you could have been seriously injured. Paralyzed even." His face showed true concern.

"I was very lucky, I know that." She twisted her ring around her finger. "You want to know the irony of the whole thing? When I initially found out I was pregnant, my first thought was to end it."

"What?" Jonathan searched her face for meaning.

"I even went to a clinic." She fought to keep her tears in check. "It's not a story I'm proud of." She borrowed his line.

"But you didn't go through with it."

"No, I didn't." She sighed. "I sat inside this little waiting room and filled out the necessary paperwork. I hid behind my sunglasses. I can still see the faces of the young girls around me. Oh Jonathan, they were terrified. Here I was, old enough to be their mother and just as scared. I remember this one young girl. She came in with her parents. She couldn't have been more than fifteen. Sixteen maybe. She was absolutely beautiful. She cried for the longest time, begging her father to let her have the baby. But he just sat on the chair beside her and said nothing. It made me physically sick. I mean here I was, an educated woman in my forties. I had everything to offer a child. A home and the financial means and a man who I knew would be happy. And looking around at those young girls with nothing, I realized that I would be making the biggest mistake of my life. I got up and walked out and told God I was sorry."

He was quiet for several minutes...and Jennifer wondered if this peek into her past would somehow change his opinion of her.

"So it was just fear? Fear of doing it all at your age?" He still struggled, trying to make sense of it all.

"Honestly?" Her eyes were fixed on his and she fought to remain composed. "At the time, I didn't know if I loved Les enough to raise a child with him."


	10. Chapter 10

_"I saw you..." She began, her heart beating a rapid rhythm. "about ten years ago."_

_"Where was this?" He asked, thoroughly intrigued._

_"In New York. You were speaking at an entrepreneur's seminar at Columbia."_

_"Oh, right." He gave a nod of remembrance._

_"I think it was called 'The American Dream: Rags to Riches' or something."_

_"Or something." He smiled._

_"Your speech was fabulous." She smiled back._

_"Why didn't you let me know you were there?" He asked. "We could've gone to dinner or-"_

_"You were surrounded by a mob of students looking for handshakes and hot tips." She grinned._

_"Wow." He smiled once more. "I can't believe you were there. I wish you would have hung around."_

_"Well, you were busy..." She sighed and looked away. "And I didn't know if you were there alone or-"_

_"I was." He locked on her eyes. "Alone, I mean."_

_The conversation stalled again and Jennifer held her breath. She wanted to know. She needed to know. At what point had he stopped condemning her? Would he truly have been happy to see her again? After ten years and two thousand miles between them? Her neck still ached and she wondered when the pain pills he'd given her would kick in. She dropped her head for a moment, needing to stretch out tight muscles and avoid his eyes._

_"You're really hurting, aren't you?" He asked, leaving his plate on the end of his chaise and moving over to hers._

_"I'll be alright." She insisted._

_"Turn around." He directed with a soft tone._

_"No really, it's okay." She tried to resist._

_"Turn around." He insisted with a smile._

_His hands found her shoulders and gently he began to massage away the soreness. His fingers were cool and felt good as he worked his way up and down her neck. She couldn't help but tense up more, overcome with conflicting emotions...and he sensed it instantly._

_"This only helps if you relax a little." He whispered in her ear._

_"Right." She closed her eyes and focused all her energy on letting go. "Sorry."_

_"Why didn't you tell me earlier that you were in pain?" He asked._

_"No one likes a complainer." She said jokingly._

_"No one likes a martyr either." He teased back._

_Jennifer sat in silence, stirred inside by the feel of his hands on her skin. He hadn't touched her this way-this intimately- in over twenty years. And as good as it felt, she knew it was wrong. Her heart ripped through beats in seconds and she pulled back away from him._

_"Uh, really...I'm fine." She said, barely able to get the words out. "Thank you."_

_"I'm sorry." His eyes reflected a kind of truth she hadn't seen in years._

_"Oh, it's okay."_

_"No." He shook his head. "I mean I'm sorry." He looked down at the ring on her finger. "I'm so sorry...for everything."_

_Years of lying in bed, envisioning this exact moment, had not prepared her. Seeing his face in every crowd. Hearing his voice in every airport terminal or theater lobby and knowing they were just whispers of old ghosts. Yet here they were, alone in front of the very sea where they promised to love, honor, and cherish so long ago..._

_"It's getting late..." She avoided his statement, suddenly afraid of bringing the past to the surface. "And I'm really tired."_

_"Jennifer-" He reached for her hand and held it tightly. "I don't want you to leave this island without knowing that." He met her eyes again._

_"I know..." She squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry too."_

The wet sand created the path of greatest resistance and she ran as hard and fast as her legs would carry her. Sleep had not come easy; their final exchange of the night stuck on repeat in her mind. And now with dawn breaking on the horizon, she fought to keep her thoughts in the present. She had a job to do. In a few hours, she and Jonathan would take a boat out in the middle of theMediterranean, making Max's final wish a reality. And tomorrow, she'd make the journey back to Les and her quiet, uncomplicated life. With each stride, it became more and more clear: she was mentally prepared for one event...and deathly afraid of the other.

The villa was silent. She slipped her running shoes off at the door and tiptoed inside. She smiled when she caught sight of the large carved boat on the kitchen counter, waiting patiently for a pair of little hands to bring it to life. She fired up the coffee pot and disappeared back down to the lower level, ready to grab a shower. She could hear her cell phone ringing but she didn't make it in time. His name was on the display and from the time she'd gone out for her run, she'd missed three calls from him. There were no messages in voice mail, which made her heart beat even faster_. It's urgent enough to call several times but not leave a message...?_ Immediately she thought of her father, feeling her insides go numb. She quickly called him back, her heart still racing.

"Hello." He answered.

"Les, what's wrong?" She asked. "Has something happened to my father?"

"No, it's not your father."

"You called three times and never left a message. Is everything alright?"

"Why don't you tell me?"

"I don't know what mean."

"Where have you been all this time?"

"I went out for a run on the beach." She was confused by his tone. "I just came back in and saw that you'd called."

"Came back in where?"

"To my room." She replied.

"At the hotel?" He asked.

She hesitated, catching her reflection in the mirror over the dresser.

"I'm not at the hotel." She confessed, her words almost a whisper.

"Yes, I know. And do you know how I know?"

"No." She shook her head, holding back tears.

"I ordered flowers to be sent to you today. I got an email message from the online florists that they had not been able to make the delivery because there was no Jennifer Edwards at the hotel...and was it possible that I had the wrong hotel? And did I want to cancel the order?" He explained.

"Les, I-"

"You never checked in, did you?"

"No, I didn't." She sighed heavily.

"So you're there with him, is that it?"

"His villa sleeps twelve. I have an entire floor to myself. It was just more convenient this way-"

"Convenient?" He laughed sarcastically. "Convenient for who?"

"I'm not going to let you _accuse_ me of something that doesn't exist." She shot back. "I'm his guest and nothing more."

"And when were you going to tell me?" The anger in his voice was clear. "Or were you even going to tell me?"

"What good what it have done to tell you? The end result was going to be the same."

"So what Les doesn't know..."

"Of course I was going to tell you. As soon as I got back home."

"Oh I see..." The sarcasm returned. "You'd rather beg forgiveness than ask permission, is that it?"

"See? This is exactly why I didn't tell you, because I knew there was no avoiding this. Damned if I do and damned if I don't. You were going to blow up either way."

"I want to trust you, Jennifer." He lowered his voice. "But you're making it really hard."

She didn't say anything, but continued to study herself in the mirror. Her face was still flushed from the hard run. Her shirt was wet and tight against her body. The sweaty ends of her hair held fast to her neck and forehead. She thought of their recent conversation and the memory he shared of their very first meeting...

_"I can still see the way that purple wrap dress hugged your body. You were soaked to the bone. But the way the wet fabric was stuck to you...and the ends of your hair, all stuck against your neck-"_

"We're going out this afternoon-to take care of the business with Max. My flight leaves tomorrow morning and this will all be over with. Can we please wait and discuss it when I get back home? Face to face?"

He didn't respond. In fact, he was so quiet that Jennifer thought that maybe he'd hung up.

"Are you still there?" She asked after a minute.

"Yes." He answered softly.

"I don't want to have a shouting match over the phone. It solves nothing."

"You're right." He agreed.

"It's one more day. Can you give me that? Twenty-four guilt free hours to close this chapter of my life?"

"Can you trust me?" He countered. "Enough to let me be the judge of my own emotions?"

She spun her ring around her finger. "I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you. I didn't even give you a chance, did I?"

"No, you didn't." He sighed. "And that's what hurts the most."

_I've come to the conclusion that there are only two kinds of people in the world. It has nothing to do with race or sex or economics. It's just those that seize opportunities and those that wish they had. Had I not reached out to that fourteen year old kid hanging around the track that one rainy February day, who knows where I'd be today. I needed you that day as much as you needed me. And because I stepped up and took advantage of an opportunity, I had a blessed life. I got exactly what I wanted-a family. You gave that to me-you and Joss._

Jonathan stopped reading. He stared at the ceiling for a while, thinking back on the day he met Max. He'd seen him many times though they never communicated aside from a simple nod. They were both regulars at the track-both hoping for a quick score and a run of good luck. After joining forces, they'd enjoyed a lot of both for many, many years. Jonathan knew where the old man's thoughts were heading. He'd hinted at it in his other letters. And now, with the final note in his hand, he wiped his eyes and read on.

_A man needs balance in his life-a balance of fire and water. Now Joss is your water. Always rushing around you. Always moving and changing. That's what children do. They cool your soul. Water quenches like nothing else can. But a man needs warmth too. A fire he can sit by. A place where he stop and reflect and feel the heat of the flames. You had that fire once. I know because I saw it. It was there with you on a tiny island when you ran along the beach together. It was there in your eyes, every time you looked at her. You were your truest self when you were with her._

_I never told you but I saw her several years ago-at a writers conference at NYU. She was on a panel with some other authors, answering questions from the audience. After it was over, I hung around the back of the auditorium for a few minutes-just to say hello. But I never got the chance. She was with someone and I didn't want to intrude. So I just slipped out the side door. Never saw her again. She was gorgeous-that much hadn't changed. But her eyes. They were different. There was no fire._

"Daddy?" A soft voice called from the hall.

"Hey Buddy." Jonathan motioned to the boy to join him.

"You slept in my room." He jumped up on the bed beside him.

"Because you and Glen fell asleep in mine." He poked his ribs playfully. "How are you feeling?" He pressed a hand against Joss's forehead.

"I'm fine." He pushed Jonathan's hand away.

"What are you doing up so early? And where's Glen? Is she still asleep?"

"I don't know." He noticed the redness in his father's eyes. "Daddy's, what's wrong?"

"Well, I was lying here reading a letter from Max."

"Is it a sad letter?" He asked.

"A little."

"Are all those from Uncle Max?" He pointed to several envelopes on the nightstand.

"Yep." He nodded.

"Are they sad too?"

"Not all of them. Some are funny. You know Max was great at telling funny stories. And a lot of them are about you." He smiled. "You know, Max loved you so much. Like you were his grandson. You were his Little Man."

"And you were his _almost_ son."

"That's right."

"How come Uncle Max never had kids?"

"I don't know. He and his wife got divorced and they just never had any."

"Is that why Uncle Max's letter is sad? Because he didn't have real kids?"

"No I don't think so. To Max, we were his family. He loved us like we were the real deal." He folded the last letter and returned it to the stack with the others.

"Jennifer's dad's name is Stephen. She said he was real good at building sandcastles."

"I'm sure he was."

"Did you know him?"

"Yes, I did."

"Was he nice?"

"Oh yes, he's a character. Kind of like Max but with a British accent."

"Like James Bond?" The boy asked, his interest peaked.

"A little. He raises horses and lives on a big estate in a town near WashingtonDC."

"You've been there?"

"Oh yes, dozens of times...when Jennifer and I were married."

"Daddy, how come you and Jennifer got divorced?"

"Well..." He looked into his son's eyes. "It's kind of a complicated, grown-up thing."

"Glenda says she's getting married to another man."

"That's right, she is."

"Who?"

"I don't know him. His name is Leslie Huston."

"Leslie?" Joss thought a moment. "That's a girl's name."

"It can go either way." Jonathan informed him. "It's just not very popular as a boy's name today."

"Is he a business man like you?"

"No, he's the president of the university where Jennifer teaches."

"Oh." The boy nodded. "Is he mean?"

"No, Champ, I don't think so." He tried not to laugh.

"Do you think he has a plane, like we do?"

"Well he might, I don't know." Jonathan shook his head. "Man, you sure are full of questions this morning."

"When she gets married her name won't be Jennifer Edwards anymore, will it?"

"Uh no, I guess it won't." His heart began to beat faster. "She'll be Jennifer Huston."

"That means she'll be a _Mrs. H_ again."

"Yeah," He looked at his son, impressed by his intellect. The thought had never occurred to him-and it slammed against his memory. "I guess she will be."

_"What do you think about her?" Jonathan asked the old man._

_"That is one terrific lady. You and she go together like Romeo and Juliet...like Gable and Lombard...like bacon and eggs. She's the best thing that ever happened to us._

_"I'm gonna ask her to marry me, Max." He looked down at the framed photo of her, still in awe of her natural beauty._

_"Well if you don't, I will." Max teased._

"Daddy?" Joss's voice pulled him back from the past.

"Hmm?"

"How come you don't love Jennifer anymore?"

His heartbeat increased even more and he thought back on the honest moments they shared under the Grecian sky just a handful of hours before. "I care about her a great deal."

"Do you think she knows how to make pancakes?" He asked after a long pause. "As good as Glen's?"

"I think I can say with a hundred percent certainty that she does _not_ know how to make pancakes." He said with a reflective grin.

She leaned against the rail, sipping coffee and looking at the waves. It was the first time she'd ventured out of her room all day, aside from her early morning run. The conversation with Les had drained her, leaving her tired and confused. After showering, she returned to bed and spent the morning hours reading and drifting in and out of sleep. Her neck was much better, but a heavy pain lodged itself above her right eye and she prayed that it wouldn't turn into a migraine.

Glenda checked in on her, concerned that she'd missed breakfast. She returned only one other time, with a tray around lunch time. She forced herself to eat a few bites, knowing she'd need something to fuel her through the course of the afternoon. Joss snuck down one time for a hug; the new wooden boat in his hands and an enormous smile on his face. He sat with her for a few minutes, talking in his six year old animated way. She felt her heart break, knowing that their time together was coming to an end. Now she was dressed and ready, waiting on Jonathan. She looked at her watch. He'd have to hurry if they were going to make it to the boat on time.

She didn't hear him...and jumped when she felt his hand on the back of her neck.

"Oh, you scared me." She turned to him.

"I'm sorry." He apologized. "How's the neck?"

"Much better."

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked. "You've been a recluse all day."

"I went out for a run this morning. I haven't done that in a couple of weeks and well, I paid for it."

"Listen, if you're not up for this, I could call Khristos and-"

"No, no." She shook her head. "I'm fine now. I rested all day."

"Are you sure?" He gave her a sideways look. "You don't think you're coming down with what Joss had, do you?"

"No, I think it was a case of a fifty-one year old body and a twenty-one year old mindset. I just pushed myself a little too hard, that's all."

"I've got a cab on the way. Should be here any minute. I don't want to leave Glen here without a car."

"That's a good idea."

"And if you're up to it, I told her we'd get dinner on the way back. I didn't want them waiting around on us, since I'm not sure what time we'll be back."

"I'm not coming back." She announced.

"What?" He thought he misheard her.

"I called the hotel. They still have a room available. I'll stay there tonight and then get a cab to the airport in the morning."

"Oh."

"And since the hotel is just down from the marina, I thought that you could just drop me off, you know, when we get back."

"Of course, if that's what you want." He tried to hide his disappointment.

"Do you think we have time to drop off my luggage before?" She asked.

"Khristos has cleared the whole afternoon for us. There's no rush. We have plenty of time to stop."

"I left my bags by the front entrance." She turned and looked out at the view one last time. "I need to say goodbye to Glenda and Joss."

"He's gonna be crushed when he finds out you're not coming back." Jonathan rested his arms on the railing. "Glen too."

"I've had a wonderful time." She turned back to him. "With all of you."

"You know, we could pick you up in the morning...take you to the airport. Maybe even have breakfast together."

"You've been more than generous." She touched his arm affectionately. "But I'll make it on my own."

The honk of a horn signaled the end of the moment and Jonathan turned back toward the villa.

"I guess that's our ride." He said. "We better go."

They walked back inside. Glenda and Joss were side by side on the long, leather sofa; their eyes fixed on a movie on the flat screen above the fireplace.

"Can you pause that for a minute, Glen?" Jonathan asked. Jennifer noticed a sudden heaviness in his tone.

"Is the cab here?" She asked, checking her watch.

"Yeah, we're about to take off." He said. "Jennifer wanted to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Glenda said with surprise. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the hotel. I'm flying out in the morning."

"So you're not coming back here at all?" She stood and embraced Jennifer warmly.

"I'm afraid not." She looked down at the boy; seeing sadness in his eyes. "So you better give me an extra tight hug before I go."

He ran to her, his tiny arms strong around her waist. She bent down to his level and held him, burying her face in his soft, dark hair.

"I'm gonna miss you." She choked back tears. "Promise me you'll take good care of Glenda and your daddy, okay?"

"Please don't go." He held her around the neck.

"I wish I didn't have to," She loosened her grip, looking into his bright green eyes. "But I have a plane to catch."

"We didn't even have a chance to put the boat in the ocean yet."

"Next time..." She brushed his hair back. "I promise."

He fell against her once more and she hugged him one last time.

"I love you, Mrs. H." He whispered in her ear.

"I love you too, Little Man."


	11. Chapter 11

He knew he'd missed her, but hadn't realized just how much. All the tension that existed between them had given him serious doubts that he'd be lying beside her again. As much as he wanted her, he didn't push. He was happy just to hold her again. To feel her skin. To know that she was once again his and that maybe they could forget everything that had happened. She'd been painfully quiet since their return. But the day had been long and he knew she was probably tired. At least that's what he told himself-afraid of facing the reality that it could be something else.

"I can't tell you how many times I've thought about this..." He drew little circles on her bare shoulder. "I've missed you so much, Jennifer."

"I'm so sorry." She whispered.

"Please stop. No more apologies. Just let me hold you." He breathed in her familiar scent, thankful they'd found their way back to each other. "God, you feel so good."

She wanted to tell him the same. That his body was her solace. That he was all she ever needed. That she'd dreamed of this moment all week. But she'd already told too many lies. And now, lying beside him and thinking of another man thousands of miles away was just one more. Someone was going to get hurt-really hurt. A slight pinch of pain lingered in her neck and she sat up, needing a little space.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"It's just my neck." She mumbled as she moved to the edge of the bed. "And it's so hot in here."

"Do you want me to get you something?"

"No, I'll get it." She stood. "I'll be right back."

She tiptoed out of the bedroom, wrapping his robe around her. Downstairs in the kitchen she found what she needed. She quickly downed two pills, catching her reflection in the door of the microwave oven. The guilt in her eyes was plain.

She wandered outside, hoping the air would clear her head a bit. The night sky overhead was virtually starless and she took it as a sign from above. As much as she wanted it to work, building a life with him was no longer an option. Yes, they had a history and she did love him...but not the way he needed to be loved. Not the way he deserved to be. She sat down on a chaise by the pool. The water was still and she thought about Joss and his sweet little face, splashing happily and entertaining them all. It made her heart hurt.

She looked up at the sky for a while, remembering every detail of their time together. The day on the beach. Watching him cook dinner. Falling asleep in Joss's bed. The feel of his hand as he led her through the crowded streets. The brush of his lips against hers for the first time in twenty plus years. Her thoughts jumped from scene to scene; each memory confirming what she had to do. She had to tell him the truth.

"What happened to _I'll be right back_?" He sat down on the chaise.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just needed to cool off for a minute." She hadn't heard him slip up behind her.

"I think you and I both know it's more than that. A lot more."

His eyes trapped her, and there was no running away. She reached out for his hand and held it tightly. For several moments they said nothing and that's when he knew. The tears came to both of them. She fell against him and he held her once more...for what he knew was probably the last time.

"The only way you can lose something is if you possess it first." He ran his fingers through her hair. "And I know now you've only been on loan."

"I didn't want this to happen." She tried ease the blow. "It's not what I planned or intended. It just...happened."

"You really love him, don't you?" He pulled back and held her eyes once more, seeing someone else reflected in their autumn hue.

She didn't have to say anything. Of course, her face said it all. She studied his eyes but the pain behind them was too great and it forced her to look away. She swallowed hard, remembering the exchange on the beach.

_"Jonathan..." The wind took her voice. She shook her head, afraid of what might come out of her mouth._

_"That's it." His arms encircled her waist and he pulled her body close. His lips hovered over hers as he spoke. "When you say it just like that...I'm done. I always was."_

_He kissed her tenderly. It was soft and sensual and filled with something she hadn't truly known in years-deep, encompassing love. It had never left her, that feeling of being home whenever she was in his arms. There had been other men. Not many, but a few. And none of them had ever touched her the way he had. Even so, as good as it felt she knew what she was doing was wrong._

_"Tell me that this is real." He caught another strand of her hair. "Tell me that I'm really standing here with you after all this time."_

_"We can't do this." She tried to wriggle free from his grasp. "This is wrong."_

_"Does it feel wrong?" He increased his grip._

_"That's not the point. I came here to do a job." She tried to plead her position._

_"A job?" He looked at her, confused. "So Max was just a job to you?"_

_"No, that's not what I mean." She shook her head, overcome with dozens of emotions. "I mean, I came here to fulfill a man's last request. I never meant for us to..."_

_"For us to what?" He wanted to hear her say it._

_"I'm engaged. There's someone else in my life now."_

_"But is that what you really want? Because I don't think it is."_

_She didn't answer right away, which was all the proof that he needed._

_"I can't lie to him. Not again..."_

_"And what about the lies you've been telling yourself? Are they the same ones I've told myself for the last God knows how many years? That you're better off without me? That you never really loved me?" The look in his eyes was intense. "I keep telling myself that if you truly loved him, you'd be with him. That you wouldn't have come here at all." He paused. "I know you've felt it all week-just as much as I have. I've seen it in your eyes. Tell me you haven't thought about it. Tell me you haven't laid awake in bed thinking about the fact that we were just a few feet apart."_

_"Jonathan, please." She whispered, looking into his blue eyes and knowing that she wanted nothing more than to run away from the rest of the world with him. "It's not fair to him. He's done nothing but love me."_

_"Maybe what Les doesn't know won't hurt him?"_

_The half smile on his face struck a deep chord in her. She pulled away, amazed that he could suddenly be so flip._

_"Well that's a surprise, coming from you." She backed several feet away from him. "It's that exact line of thinking that cost me our marriage."_

_She turned to continued walking down the beach. She held in her tears, determined not to cry in front of him. She couldn't walk fast enough to get away from him though. He caught up with her in a few steps and with his hand on her shoulder, spun her around to face him._

_"I'm sorry." He could see the confusion in her eyes. "The last thing I want to do is push you away from me."_

_"No, I'm the one's that sorry." She confessed; a tear made a trail down her cheek. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore."_

_"Can we just sit down and talk? I don't want our last night together to be a repeat of a fight from two decades ago."_

_He took her hand and they sat side by side on the sand as the sun made its descent. He waited patiently for her words to make their way to the surface. He knew they would-they'd been so honest with each other._

_"All the trust we'd built." She squeezed his hand but continued to keep her eyes on the ocean. "I ruined it. I never meant to hurt you. Never. I was young and selfish and stupid and-"_

_"And it wasn't just you." He stopped her. "I tried to force you into something you weren't ready for. You reacted how you reacted-right or wrong. I should have worked harder to understand." He took a deep breath. "I was so bent on hurting you because I was hurting so much. I just wanted you to feel it as deeply as I did."_

_"I can't tell you how many times something good would happen and my first thought would be, 'Oh I can't wait to tell Jonathan.' And then I'd remember..." She sighed. "There was no more us. That's why I created Phillip and Phoebe. So we could still exist on some remote level. All those beautiful moments they shared and all the love they made..." She spun her ring around her finger. "That was us."_

_"You know, I picked up the phone hundreds of times to call you...but I was afraid that after everything that happened..."_

_"When was this? Before Max got sick?"_

_"For years. When I finally grew up and realized my part in what happened and what I'd given up. But after the way I acted and all the unforgiveable things I'd said to you," His eyes were sharp on hers. "I knew there was absolutely no chance that you...or we'd..._

_They sat in silence for a while, each considering the wasted years between them. He continued to rub his thumb over hers and she rested her head against his shoulder._

_"I read Max's letters." He said._

_"You did?"_

_"It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be." His heart began to beat faster. "You gave me the courage to do it. That's what being near you does to me."_

_"Max said he'd never known me to be happier than when we were here together." She shared._

_"And have you been? Happier?" He asked, his heart now pounding._

_"Until this week?" She held his gaze. "No."_

_"The biggest mistake I've ever made was walking away from you." He said after a long silence. "I know we can make this work, if it's what you want." He looked into her eyes. "Because I know it's what I want."_

_"But there's more than just the two of us to consider here." She reasoned._

_"If you want me to go back to New York with you-"_

_"I'm not talking about Les. I'm talking about Joss." She felt a sharp pain in her chest. "We can sit here and make a lot of promises that may amount to nothing in the end. And we'll deal with it because we're adults...but I won't allow us to hurt that little boy. He's been through enough."_

_Jonathan became quiet, seeing her and Joss together in his mind. In just a few short days her maternal instinct had grown to a degree that even he never imagined._

_"Do you know that when I held him for the first time I was thinking of you." Tears began to form in his eyes. "It should have been me and you. Joss should be our son."_

_"But he's not. And as much as I wish I could, I can't change that." One by one, her tears fell. "Jonathan, I'm so sorry. If I could take it all back..." The words hung in her throat and she couldn't speak._

_"I'm not asking you for yesterday." He cupped her face in his hands. "I just want your tomorrow."_

_He kissed her again just as the sun disappeared behind the long, blue line. It was softer than the first time their lips met. It was warmer. More comforting. And she knew she didn't want it to end._

_"I love you, Jennifer." His husky voice delivered the words she'd prayed for._

_"I love you too." She blinked, releasing more tears. "I never stopped."_

_"Then stay with me." He whispered. "And tell me you believe in second chances."_

"Jennifer," He locked on her eyes. "Do you love him?" He repeated.

"He's my whole world." She whispered, pressing the ring into Les's hand.


	12. Chapter 12

It was only after he'd wrestled the suitcase closed that he realized he'd forgotten to pack his pajamas. Carefully he unzipped the side and shoved in two pairs, rolled up like little logs. He felt eyes on the back of his neck and turned around to find he was being watched...by eyes that were less than enthusiastic.

"Hey Buddy, what's wrong?" He asked.

"I don't want to go." The boy leaned against his bedroom door frame.

"What do you mean? I've got you all packed and ready. And do you know how many kids would give their right arm to go on a Disney cruise to Hawaii? You're going to have a great time."

"I'm gonna miss the first day of school."

"I spoke with Mrs. Shannon and explained that this is a special opportunity for you and your mom. Besides, you've been at Laurel since preschool. You're an old pro. Nothing happens the first day anyway."

"We already went on a trip, remember?" He folded his arms resolutely across his chest and Jonathan had to fight to stay composed.

"Yes, but that was with me. Your mom wants to spend some time with you too. And you don't have to make that long flight to Italy."

"I want to go to New York. With you."

"Well, now, we talked about that, didn't we? That's a grown-ups only trip."

"But she won't mind. I know her and she won't mind if I come too. Let's call her. I bet she says yes."

"Come here." He sat down on his son's bed and motioned for him to do the same. "I know Jennifer would love to see you. She told you herself that you are one of her most favorite people on the whole planet. Right?"

"Yes sir." He sighed.

"And if we're going to have any shot with her, I've gotta strike out on my own first. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Do you think she wants to marry us?" Joss looked up at his father with a hopeful expression.

"I don't know. We haven't really talked about marriage exactly. But we love each other and we want to be together. And that means all of us, as a family."

"So why can't we be together as a family in New York?"

"Because you'll be on a boat with a mouse and your mom." He tousled his son's hair.

"Is Jennifer gonna be here when I get back?"

"If I play my cards right, she will."

"Are you going _all in_?" He asked innocently.

"How do you know about going _all in_?" He couldn't hide his smirk.

"Uncle Max." They said in unison. Jonathan shook his head with a chuckle.

"If you do get married, then she'll be my real mom, won't she?" He asked after a long pause.

"No, she'll be your step-mom. Marcella is your real mom. She gave birth to you."

"I thought real moms were the ones that loved you and lived with you all the time."

Jonathan looked down into his son's eyes. They screamed his mother in every way. In both color and expression. And it was moments like this that he found forgiveness and silently blessed Marcella Turri a million different ways for giving him this child.

"That's how the Velveteen Rabbit became real. Because the boy loved him. Right, Daddy?"

"You're absolutely right, Champ." He draped his arm around his shoulder. "One hundred percent."

* * *

The last box was loaded onto the moving truck. She made one final walk through of the home they'd shared, just to be sure. Empty nails remained in walls that were now blank, devoid of art and photographs. The house echoed with the absence of rugs and window treatments to buffer sound. She paused a moment in the doorway of the study. At one time, it had housed both of their desks. They'd spent many nights working side by side on collegiate business, listening to jazz greats on his vintage Victrola. Looking at the large bay window, she studied the divots in the carpet where two oversized wingback chairs once stood. A knot formed in her stomach, thinking back on a conversation that had taken place in those same chairs inside his small but elegant bachelor apartment years before...

_"Coffee?" She asked, cup already in hand._

_"Absolutely." He quickly folded the newspaper and dropped it on the floor._

_"What are you doing up so early?" She asked, taking the chair beside him. "You always catch up on Sundays."_

_"I couldn't sleep." He said with a smile. "Just too excited, I guess."_

_"Are you really excited?" She asked, somewhat apprehensively. "You can tell me the truth."_

_"You're kidding, right?" He asked, still smiling._

_"Well..." She was now grinning. "I just want to make sure."_

_"I danced you right out of the restaurant last night, didn't I?" He sighed, recalling how he'd felt the moment she told him._

_"That could have been an act." She countered teasingly. "You know, trying to spare my feelings in public."_

_"Jennifer..." He moved from his chair and knelt on the floor in front of her. "You've got to know that I've wanted this since day one."_

_"But we've never even discussed it. You never mentioned it."_

_"Only because I didn't want it to be an issue with us...the way it had been, you know...before..." He hinted at her divorce._

_"I'm going to be the oldest mom at high school graduation." She informed her._

_"And the most beautiful. And the smartest." His hand disappeared under the hem of her robe and he massaged her leg gently. "And the sexiest."_

_"Are you really happy?" She leaned forward, resting her head against his._

_"I'm way past happy. I'm ecstatic. Euphoric. Over the moon." He rubbed his nose against hers. "I want the next girl I kiss to be our daughter." He whispered._

_"_Uh, Ma'am?" A man cleared his throat, breaking her reflective silence. "I think that's everything."

"I think it is." She turned and offered an approving nod.

"If I can just get you to sign here..." He held out an electronic pad. "then we'll be on our way."

"Of course." She replied. "Long drive ahead, huh?"

"If the weather and road conditions are good, we might make it into LA ahead of schedule." He confirmed.

"You and your crew have done a fantastic job, Mike. I really appreciate it."

She signed the obligatory e-documents and locked up for the last time. Secretly, she wondered if Les would make an appearance, just to double check that all was in order. He'd moved his things to a small house not far from campus a couple of weeks before. It had all been very civil in the days since they'd put the house on the market. And surprisingly, despite the current downturn in the economy, they found a buyer in just three short days. They even put in an offer on Jennifer's car, which she sold to them as well. All she had left to do was sign the closing papers and turn over the keys. She checked her watch and saw that she was right on time for their four-thirty appointment. And so was the cab, now waiting patiently in the driveway. She shielded the late afternoon sun from her eyes and turned for one final look. It was a gorgeous estate. More than they ever needed for just the two of them. They'd fallen in love with the grounds and the classic architecture of the 1920s beauty. It had been her home for almost three years. And though she couldn't wait to return to the west coast, she couldn't deny the pang of sorrow building inside. Without a word she climbed in the back of the cab, brushing a few tears away as the house disappeared behind her.

The drive to the title company didn't take long. She spied Les's car parked right by the entrance and she stopped breathing for a moment. They hadn't seen one another or even talked for the better part of a week. This would, most likely, be the last time she saw ever him. Jonathan was waiting for her in the city and she'd be on the road as soon as the paperwork was complete. The agent reassured her that the transaction wouldn't take long. In a few short hours, she'd be back in New York...and back in the arms of the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

"Right this way, Ms. Edwards." A receptionist showed her to a conference room where she found all the required parties assembled. Les stood immediately upon her entering the room; the look on his face both happy and sad.

"Am I late?" Jennifer asked, nervously consulting her watch once more.

"No, you're right on time." The agent announced. "Please, have a seat."

She sat down on the empty chair next to Les. He smiled and offered a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"You're fine." He whispered in her ear. "We just sat down sixty-seconds ago."

"Well, I know that everyone's time is valuable, so let's get started." The agent took his place at the head of the long table.

She sat for over half an hour, listening as the agent narrated the various documents and signing her name dozens of times. Very little was said, all parties quietly autographing stacks of papers. When the final page was complete, she and Les stood and exchanged handshakes with the new owners-an excited, young couple, parents to two-year old twin boys, in their early thirties.

"Now, if we can just get the keys..." The agent said with a smile. "I think we're all done."

Jennifer wrestled with the jump ring on her keychain. He watched her struggle for a moment then reached and took it from her; his hand lingering against hers a little longer than necessary.

"Here you are." Les pushed it across the table along with his own. "We hope you have many happy years there."

"It's a great house." Jennifer quickly added, forcing down the lump in her throat. "Your children are going to love growing up there."

Outside, the same cab sat waiting. She felt her heart beating wildly. This was it. Their final goodbye. In a parking lot. At a title company. On a nondescript Thursday afternoon. She'd tried to formulate a picture of it in her mind all day-and every attempt, unsuccessful.

"That went well." He made the first move conversationally.

"He promised it wouldn't take long."

"The Gentry's seem like a nice young couple."

"Yes they do." She agreed.

And that's where it stopped. They ran out of small talk. For a minute they just stood, staring into each other's eyes. They done it all in the days since her return from Greece-everything from shouting and crying to quietly discussing what the future held. He still wanted her-that much he'd made very clear. Standing here with him, she felt the tears coming. Saying goodbye to love was never easy.

"No problem with the movers?" He asked.

"No." She shook her head. "They rolled out when I did."

"Are you leaving for LA right now?"

"I'll be in New York through the weekend, then I'm flying out Sunday afternoon."

"I see." He looked down at the ground for a moment, pushing a pebble with the toe of his loafer. "Well, I guess you better not keep your cabbie waiting."

"I don't know how to make this better." She waited for his eyes. "I've thought about this moment for a long time, how to say goodbye the right way..." Her words stalled.

"There is no right way." He looked up at her again. "I think it's one of those things that no matter how many times you may do it in your life, it never gets better."

"I never wanted to hurt you, Les." A tear slid down her cheek.

"I know you didn't." Gently he wiped it away.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her one last time. He knew there was nothing more to say. No use in begging. No better argument to convince her to stay. She'd never been his, not truly. Her heart, though she might never have admitted it, even to herself, had always belonged to someone else. Deeply he inhaled the scent of her hair, knowing it was time to let her go.

"It's funny, you know. Our first day together, I was putting you in a cab." He whispered, now feeling tears on his own face. "And here I am again..." His voice trailed off.

* * *

Traffic was horrible. She called him a block from the George Washington bridge, giving a status report so he could push back their dinner reservation. He'd wanted to drive up to Duchess County himself, saving her a lonely trip into the city. But she declined, needing to say her goodbyes alone. Hearing his voice was not enough. She wanted to touch him. Feel his arms around her. For weeks they hadn't seen each other, at her own request. She'd asked for time away-to sort out her personal and professional life. He understood and agreed, not wanting to push too hard. And while they'd talked and emailed constantly since their time in Rhodes, it wasn't the same.

She'd thought a lot about their last night together-lying in his arms and listening to the surf. They spent the entire night on the beach, talking and kissing and holding one another like two young kids. It was the sole image that sustained her during the difficult days with Les. They laid it all out, withholding nothing. She loved him. She'd always loved him-even when she pretended otherwise. And he still loved her, despite the pain in their past. When the sun rose on the Greek horizon, before they even realized the night was gone, they knew they'd been given a gift. The chance to have it all once more.

He hadn't told her where'd they be staying exactly. Just an address on Fifth Avenue. She'd promised repeatedly not to Google it and as it turned out, between the packing of her office and home, she hadn't had the time...though she had a pretty good idea.

"I'm here." She called his cell as the cab pulled to a stop in front of the hotel where they'd spent their very first night together.

"I know." He grinned as he walked through the enormous brass revolving door toward her.

His smile said it all and she couldn't get out of the cab fast enough. He returned his phone to his pocket and opened her door, pulling her into his arms. They stood, locked in a tight embrace, as the busy city dissolved around them.

"Are you surprised?" He asked.

"That you'd want to recreate our first night? No."

"I would kiss you right now but I don't think I'd be able to stop." He whispered.

"What the hell, let's risk it." She whispered back.

She pressed her lips against his and instantly felt the charge. She hadn't tasted his kiss since the morning of her departure from Diagoras airport-and she'd thought of little else during their weeks apart.

He released his grip and looked into her eyes. There was a tinge of something behind them. The emotions of her day were clear.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"It's been a long day." She confirmed.

"I know it has been." He hugged her once more, ready to take it all away. "But all you have to do now is let me take care of you."

"How's the little man?" She asked.

"_We_ got an email from him. You can read it for yourself when we get upstairs." He said with a smile.

He grabbed her bag and paid the cab driver. Inside the elevator he couldn't wait. He backed her up against the mirrored wall, ready to lose himself again.

"God, I've missed you." His lips brushed against her ear.

"Not as much as I've missed you."

They almost missed their floor. Jonathan quickly searched his pockets for the key and in seconds they were locked behind the safety and privacy of the door. The suite was amazing-all seven rooms of it. He had both wine and champagne waiting, though all she really wanted was to curl up beside him. She slipped out of her shoes and turned to him-their first time to be together since she'd left Greece.

"Tell me this is real." She smiled up at him, her arms encircling his waist. "Tell me that I'm really standing here with you after all this time."

"Like I said..." He grinned. "you always steal my best lines."

"I just want to look at you." Her fingers traced his jaw line.

"Well, I hope that's not _all_ you want to do." His blue eyes sparkled.

"Do you know that I've imagined this moment all day." She brushed his hair back.

"I've imagined this moment since nineteen ninety-six."

He held her eyes before covering her mouth with his own. His hands moved through the layers of her hair as he kissed her deeply. It had been almost thirty years since he'd kissed her that way in the very same hotel. And as young and beautiful as she was then, and as much as he loved her, he knew that what they'd found now was even more precious.

"I really do love you." He pressed his forehead to hers.

"And I really do love you."

"What would you say to Room Service instead of dinner out?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

"I think a small celebration is in order first. May I?" He eyed the champagne.

"So that's your plan? Get me all liquored up?"

"Whatever it takes." He joked.

"It takes very little, I promise." She reassured him.

He filled two flutes and she took a seat on the sectional sofa in the living area.

"You have no idea, do you?" He held a glass out to her.

"About what?" She asked.

"This suite."

"What about it?"

"This is it. _The_ suite. The one where we...you know...for the first time." He sat down beside her.

"I don't think so. Ours wasn't this big. You had money, but I don't think you could have afforded this way back when."

"No, it was _this_ suite. I had the manager look it up. They had to go back into the paper archives. Only it was three rooms then. They did a complete renovation about ten years ago."

"So this is it?" She looked around, taken by the beautiful furnishings.

"We made it official right here."

He touched her cheek and she felt herself floating away. There was something about his fingers on her face that had always tested her resolve...and always found her wanting. She closed her eyes, ready to lose herself.

"You were just twenty-one years old the night we came here. I thought this was the most beautiful hotel in the whole city...and I wanted you to have the best." He took the wine glass from her hand and placed it on the coffee table.

"You know what I remember? About that night? How incredibly gentle you were." She pressed his hand against her cheek. "You always were."

His lips moved along her neck until he found it-the spot that rendered her more or less helpless. Her body responded immediately and she pulled his shirt free; her hands now alive and dancing across his back. She felt herself rushing, wanting to be closer to him. It wasn't until he reminded her that they had all night that she took a deep breath and slowed down.

"I just want to kiss you for a while, but not here." He took her hand and lead her into one of the bedrooms.

"I think I'm more nervous now than I was then." She asked, feeling her heartbeat double behind the closed door.

"Don't be nervous." He moved closer. "It's just me. The man who loves you, remember?"

"Jonathan," She placed her palm against his chest, halting his advance. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Okay." He nodded. Her tone was suddenly serious and he unsure of what she was about to reveal.

"The body I have now...is not the body I had then."

"And you think mine is?" He chuckled.

"I just want you to know that I'm not the petite young thing you once knew."

"You mean you're not that skinny, cigarette stealing girl with abs of steel that dances 'til dawn and drinks vodka like a fish?" He teased.

"Not exactly." She smiled, instantly relaxed by every word he spoke.

"That's good, because I don't want Jennifer the girl..." He slowly unbuttoned her blouse. "I want Jennifer the woman."

Despite her protests he insisted they leave a light on. The lamp beside the bed threw warm, pink light around them and he studied every part of her. All the self-conscious thoughts she'd experienced before vanished as his fingers gently traced various lines along her body.

"This body has only gotten better with age. Do you know that I've dreamed about this exact freckle?" He kissed a small, ginger-colored dot on her shoulder.

"What about the other ones?" She questioned with a soft smile.

"All in good time." He made a trail of kisses across her chest.

"Jonathan?"

"Hmm?" He continued to explore.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

"I can't believe I'm telling you this after all these years, but I lied to you...the night we came here."

"You mean about it not being your first time?" He couldn't hold in his smile.

"How did you know?"

"I don't know, but I knew."

"But you never said anything?"

"If you'd wanted me know, you would have told me. Telling you that I knew would have only embarrassed you. And it's not like I left here disappointed."

"Was I that inexperienced?" She asked. "But I'd done my homework. I read Jackie Collins."

"You were everything I ever wanted. Nothing else mattered."

"_That's _why you were so gentle." She looked into his eyes.

"No." He touched her lips softly. "I'm gentle because you make me want to be."

He kissed her again, willing himself to take his own advice and slow down. She was more beautiful than he remembered; glowing with a confidence that only time and experience could provide. He'd come home...and he knew he'd never make it through another day without her.

"Can I tell _you_ a secret?" He whispered.

"Absolutely."

"In the twenty years we've been apart, I never made love to another woman..." His eyes were serious. "They were always you."

* * *

_Ten years later_

"You know Tiger Woods?"

"I don't know him. We met him at a golf tournament. I was about four when that was taken."

"Where was this one taken?" She asked.

"That's me, my dad and my uncle Max fishing down in Playa Del Carmen. He died when I was six."

"Oh I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"Look at the fish you caught!" She squealed. "It's bigger than you are."

"Max caught that. He was a great fisherman. My dad, on the other hand...I think the only thing he caught that trip was a cold."

"When was this?" She pointed to another photograph. "And who are all these people?"

"That was last year, on my sixteenth birthday." He took the frame in his hand and named each face. "That's my dad, my step mom, my mom, my mom's husband Carlo, Glenda, Glenda's daughter, her son-in law and two of her grandkids. We all met up in Greece. We go there every summer for my birthday. It's sort of a tradition."

"Where haven't you been?" She asked flirtatiously.

"Antarctica." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Wait. I thought your dad's name is Jonathan."

"It is."

"Well, you just said that you mom's husband is Carlo."

"It is."

"I'm confused."

"Carlo is married to my mom, Marcella."

"I just met you mom. Her name is Jennifer."

"Right."

"So who is your step-mom?"

"Technically? Jennifer is my step-mom. But she's been married to my dad since I was little, so I call her mom."

"And what does your real mom think of that?"

"Nothing. I never called her mom. She's always been Marcella."

"So hold on...you call your step-mom Mom and your real mom Marcella?"

"Kind of complicated, huh?"

"As long as you can keep track of it."

"Marcella gave birth to me. But Jennifer is my real mom." He focused on Jennifer's image before returning the photograph to it's place on the piano.

"And this is their wedding. Oh my god, look at you in your little tuxedo! Were you the ring bearer?"

"Best man." He corrected.

"Your dad is gorgeous. And your mom, wow, she looks amazing. They're a really gorgeous couple."

"Everybody say that." He smiled at the picture. "It's their second marriage."

"Yeah, you explained the whole Marcella thing."

"No, I mean it's _their_ second marriage. To each other."

"What?"

"They got married right when my mom was out of college. But they got divorced after a few years. Then my dad married Marcella. Had me. Got divorced. Then, when my uncle died years later, he and my mom, Jennifer, they met up again at his funeral. They hadn't seen each other for twenty years. They fell back in love and here we are."

"That's totally the most romantic story I've ever heard."

"Everybody says that too. In fact," He crossed the room to the large bookcase behind the desk. "My mom wrote the whole thing into a novel and now it's number one on the New York Times best-seller list. _Twists of Fate_. Ever heard of it?"

"No way! My mom's reading that book right now." She took the book from him and studied the cover. "But this says Jennifer Edwards. Not Hart."

"Her maiden name. It's a continuation of a series she wrote about thirty years. She wanted to use the same name. Check it out..." He opened the cover. "It's dedicated to me and my dad.

_"For Jonathan and Little Man-for making me real_." She read aloud. "What does that mean?"

"It's kind of a long story. You've read _The Velveteen Rabbit_, right?"

"The what rabbit?" She asked.

"Never mind." He shook his head.

"Found 'em..." Jonathan called to him as they entered the living room. "They must have fallen out of my pocket when I changed earlier." He held out his car keys to his son.

"Thanks, Dad."

"There's a gas can in the trunk. You can grab a couple of gallons on the way home and then you'll be all set tomorrow. Just be careful."

"Right." He muttered, shooting his father a look of warning.

"Dinner was wonderful." The girl offered. "Thanks so much for having me."

"It was our pleasure." Jennifer smiled. "We'd love to have you back anytime."

"I've got my cell phone if you need me." Joss announced. "We'll be at The Regency."

"Have a good time." She added as they walked to the front door.

"Eleven o'clock, Joss." Jonathan was firm and the boy looked to Jennifer for support.

"Darling, the movie's not over until almost eleven. Then he has to drive Hailey back home...and they'll probably want to stop for a snack or something." She offered her best assist.

"You said you're in Brentwood, is that right?" Jonathan looked at Joss's date.

"Yes sir." The girl answered politely.

"Okay, make it midnight. But don't speed to get home. If you're gonna be late, just call."

"Yes sir."

"And no smoking pot. Or crack. Or drinking."

"Yes, Father." He gave a small salute.

"Hailey, make him spring for the extra large popcorn." He winked.

"Darling, they're going to be late." Jennifer cautioned.

"G'night, Mom." Joss hugged her warmly. "I love you...and I owe you." He whispered.

"G'night, Sweetheart. Please drive safely."

She closed the door behind them and shook an admonishing finger at him.

"What did I do?" Jonathan asked innocently.

"You don't ever pass up a chance to embarrass him, do you?"

"I'm not embarrassing him. I'm building character. If I'd have wanted to embarrass him, I would have told them to keep their clothes on."

"He didn't want Hailey to know that he forgot to fill up his car. He told her it wouldn't start because the battery was dead."

"So he's lying to her already?" He grinned. "He must really like her."

"You were a sixteen year old boy once. Have a heart."

"You don't even want to know what I was doing at sixteen."

"Oh Jonathan, you can't even remember back to sixteen."

"Well, maybe you should do something to help _jog_ my memory."

"Such as?" She bit back a grin.

"I don't know. Maybe if you come a little closer it might help."

"How's this?" She wrapped her arms around him, their noses almost touching.

"It's a start."

"What if I do this?" She kissed him softly several times, trying not to laugh.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes. "I did feel a little something that time. But I think we should try it again."

He held her face in his hands and kissed her just as he had for years. The kiss he'd never shared with another woman. The one that always left her wanting more.

"You know what?" His eyes had never looked more blue. "I think it's all coming back to me now."

THE END


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